Non gendered pronouns

I realise I’m a bit late this year but, given I was in Oz for the second half of August and the first half of September, it was unavoidable, really. Thinking about it, I guess I could have started before I left but, to be completely honest, I didn’t think of it. Too many other things on my mind, I suppose.

Of course, I’m talking about my Christmas cake. I usually make it in the first week of September, giving me lots of feeding time before the marzipan and icing stage. By ‘feeding’ of course I mean the weekly drizzle of brandy over the top of the developing cake.

And we had the news today that Maggie will be joining us for a slice. And Christmas as a whole.

Mirinda Skyped with Lisa and she confirmed our festive visitor. Maggie will be with us over the whole Christmas period, which will be fun. Mind you, it’ll be a test for me given Maggie’s pronouns are they/them which just feels like clumsy English to me.

For some reason, the English language is loathe to introduce a new word for the non-gendered. Unlike Sweden, which introduced one almost immediately it was needed.

They already had hon (she) and han (he) and merely created hen. That was back in 2012. Mind you, it had its beginning much earlier than that. You can read about it here.

Okay, I guess we can’t really go for hor or hum, but some linguistics expert surely could come up with an acceptable word. And wouldn’t non-gendered people want their own words? It’s like my vegan argument about the use of words like ‘sausage’ and ‘cheese’ to describe vegan alternatives to the real things. I don’t underdstand why, if they don’t agree with eating a sausage, they have to name non-sausages, sausages.

Anyway, that’s an argument I’ve been having for years and one I’ll never win because, I guess, vegans feel it’s normal to want sausages and cheese, even if they’re not. And they wouldn’t like my cake because it has butter and eggs in it. But I guess they have their own version.

Mine comes courtesy of the Great Delia, as usual, and soon had the house smelling a lot like, dare I say at the beginning of October, Christmas.

Mirinda proclaimed it delicious, having licked every utensil I’d used in making it. Time, as usual, will be the final tasty arbiter.

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