What’s In a Name?

 I am a writer. Primarily, I write fanfiction, but I am also working on a High Fantasy trilogy, and have been for a count of years I will not divulge here. As a writer, I spend a lot of time naming characters, including when I write original characters into my fanfiction, which, admittedly, is something I thoroughly enjoy doing. If you were to take a look through the files and folders for my stories, you would find lists upon lists upon lists of names. I spend hours, days, weeks, finding the perfect names for my very imperfect characters. I choose my characters’ names based on meaning and how that pertains to their character arc, their personality, the role, or roles, they play within the story. I very seldomly start a fanfic or novel until each original character, especially the major ones, are named as perfectly as I can name them. Then, and only then, do I feel confident enough to begin writing.

Why do I spend such time on naming characters? Because names are important. They are the first indication we have as to who someone is. Names are our identities. They inform others of who we are, even if it’s only on a surface level.

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while have probably noticed a significant change at the bottom of the posts. My name. Instead of reading Jen, it reads Catherine. As the weeks and months wear on, you may see it change from Catherine to Cat or Kit as I settle into it.

For those who are curious, my first and second names are Jennifer Catherine. From the time I was about ten years old, I’ve gone by Jen. Before then, I went by Jenny. But that changed when I was teased by a family member who mockingly told me that the term jenny refers to a female donkey. It was said in a way that inferred he was calling me a donkey; he was calling me an ass. From that day on, Jen was my preferred name. I refused to be called Jenny. I have only allowed two people in my life to call me it, though I have very occasionally used it to refer to myself when performing a song that involves the name of the singer. (Think, New Orleans Is Sinking by The Tragically Hip: “She said Gordie, baby, I know exactly what you mean.”) I only ever did this so it would match the rhythm of the lyric. I gave myself permission to do that. During high school, when my friends would hear my full first name, they’d look at me and say something along the lines of, “You’re not a Jennifer; you’re a Jen.” And, to tell you the truth, I felt the same way about my full given name. 

I have a bit of a ‘hold at arms-length’ type of relationship with my given name, and I won’t lie to you – it’s a bit awkward. I love the meaning of my name, but not the name, as a whole, itself. The name Jennifer is the Cornish form of a Norman French form of a Welsh name. (If you’ve managed to follow that, you’re doing well.) It is the Cornish form of the Norman French Guinevere (yes, the Guinevere of Arthurian legend), which itself, is from the Welsh name Gwenhwfar, which means “white phantom”. Further etymology breaks it down to Celtic roots *windos, “white” and *sēbros, “phantom, magical being”. (The asterisks in the Celtic roots mean that these root words are the best guess as to how they’re spelt. The Celtic language, like many ancient languages, was never actually written down, so linguists take their best guess as to what these words would look like were they written down in Latin letters.)

I love what my first name means; I love the whimsy and supernatural, almost Fae connection of the name. However, I’ve always liked my middle name, Catherine, just a little bit more. When I was about five or six, I wanted to go by Catherine, but I didn’t have the agency or support to fully implement it. The adults in my life had all the agency, and six year old me hadn’t yet learned how to stand up for myself. Thus, I continued to go by my first name. I accepted being called it. But, now that I’ve been an adult for 20 years, I have the confidence to ask to be called what I want to be called.

Oh, and for the sake of continuity, I’ll give you the possible origins and meanings of Catherine. Yes, you read that right. Possible origins and meanings. Catherine is the French form and common English variant of Katherine. Katherine is the English form of the Greek name Aikaterine. Now, here’s where the etymology gets a little muddy. Aikaterine may come from the earlier Greek name, Hekaterine, which is itself derived from hekateros, “each of the two.” It could also be related to the Greek word aikia, meaning “torture”, or be from a Coptic name meaning “my consecration of your name”. The final possibility, and arguably, my favourite, is that it could derive from the name of the goddess Hecate (Hekate), Greek goddess of witchcraft, crossroads, tombs, demons, and the underworld. The name Hecate is possibly derived from Greek hekas, meaning “far off”. In the early Christian era, the name Katherine became associated with the Greek word katharos, meaning “pure”, and the Latin spelling changed from Katerina to Katharina to reflect it.

The host of possible etymological origins of Catherine is really intriguing, and, for me, adds depth to the name. Some of those meanings also make sense to me. Catherine is also the first name of my paternal grandmother and great-grandmother. My grandmother went by Stella, the shortened form of her middle name, Estella. While I was emotionally closer to my maternal grandmother, I’ve been emotionally closer to the name that came from my paternal one since I was a child.

So, why the change now? Well, like I stated earlier, I’ve been a legal adult for twenty years, and going by my middle name is something I’ve wrestled with doing for a lot longer. Initially, I was going to make the change on my birthday back in April, but the change ended up happening a bit sooner than that. It happened at the end of March. I brought up the thought of the name change at work to see how much of a hassle it would or would not be to change my preferred name. It was, apparently, easier than I thought it would be. Then, in talking with supervisors, they suggested implementing it sooner rather than later, so the new staff starting this summer could begin their employment calling me by what I wanted to be called. Thus, I started going by Catherine a few weeks sooner than I had initially planned.

So far, things are going well for it. Colleagues that have known me for 6 years have made the adjustment, albeit with the odd slip up, but that’s to be expected. I expect mistakes, and appreciate effort. Friends that I’ve known for far longer than my colleagues have also been making the adjustment well. The owner of the karaoke show company I work with (who I’ve known for 18 years) even did a complete rebrand of my show under his banner, and I am incredibly grateful to him for it. Many of my family members – at least those within my familial generation and younger – have embraced it, and have even corrected those members who have called me – mistakenly or purposely – by my first name. Those in my social circles have embraced it. When I’ve told them that I am now going by Catherine, some have responded with, “It’s nice to meet you, Catherine.” It is a light-hearted thing on their part, and may be their way of introducing themselves to calling me by a different name than what they’re used to. But those simple words have helped me settle into the identity in a way that is hard to explain. It lets me know they have accepted it and are welcoming the new name even though it’s attached to someone they’ve known for a while. There are a few people, mostly close family, who haven’t accepted the name change, but I’m hoping they will eventually embrace it as well.

This change is 30+ years in the making, and it feels good. To be honest, I feel like it’s one of the things that’s helped me feel better than I have in a long time. Names are our identities. They are often given to us by other people; our parents give us our legal names, and friends and siblings give us nicknames. However, names are things we can change. I have friends who have legally changed their names from what they were given to what they want to be called. I have one friend I’ve known since I was 10, and I remember every one of her name transitions before she settled on the one that best suited her. I have friends whose deadnames I no longer remember. We are allowed to change and adapt to life as we go through it. Sometimes, those changes include what we want to be called, how we wish to be addressed. It’s important to embrace that within us, and within others. Identity is important; it’s who we are at our surface and at our core. Changing it is how we can come into our own, and in many ways, I feel like I am finally doing that. And it feels damn good.

What also feels good is spending time on this blog. I know it’s been a couple of months since I last posted, and I apologize. My work-life balance has been leaning more toward work than it has to life and I haven’t been able to spend as much time writing as I would like to without sacrificing more sleep than working two jobs already does. That said, I am hoping to find, or make, more time to write more often, and have these posts published in quicker succession. Hopefully the next post won’t take as long as this one did.

And until that next post: Stay safe, stay well, and keep on keeping on.

Catherine

A Little About Me

So, I started (re-started, technically) this blog about a year and a half ago, and I’ve only just realized that I haven’t really properly introduced myself. I’ve been wracking my brain about how to do this, and I landed on a format reminiscent of those interviews we used to read in TigerBeat and various teen magazines in the ‘90s and 2000s. I wasn’t sure what “questions” I wanted to give myself, so I posed the question to my longtime friend and fellow blogger, Shannon over at the creation of beauty is art.. She gave me quite the list of ideas and I’m grateful for it. I chose a few of hers, added some of my own, and voilà!

Side note: If you’re into makeup, perfume, beauty, inspiring seasonal posts, and everything wholesome, I highly suggest checking out Shannon’s blog. She updates several times a week, and I always love finding out what is inspiring her.

And now, onto the rest of the blog!

Astrological sign:

Sun: Aries; Moon: Gemini; Rising: Virgo.

Does this seem accurate?

Yes. I can be a leader and be impatient like Aries, I enjoy good conversation and can be indecisive like Gemini, and I can be analytical and orderly like Virgo.

What are you currently reading?

I currently have 3 books on the go:

1) His Dark Materials: The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman (published as Northern Lights in the UK);

2) The Chronicles of Narnia: The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis;

3) Queer Georgians: Hidden History of Lovers, Lawbreakers and Homemakers by Dr. Anthony Delaney (published as Queer Enlightenments: Hidden History of Lovers, Lawbreakers and Homemakers here in North America.)

(You don’t want to see my To Be Read pile…)

What books in your collection best reflect who you are today?

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy by J.R.R. Tolkien, The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, and Queer Enlightenments by Anthony Delaney.

Name the last five songs you listened to:

“Fiddler’s Green” – The Tragically Hip

“Innocent” – Our Lady Peace

“Puppet” – Scotty Newlands

“How You Remind Me” – Nickelback

“Sweet Surrender” – Sarah McLachlan

Do these accurately reflect your current musical taste?

Yes. My music taste is varied and crosses many genres – country, pop, rock, easy listening, classical. These songs are from a recently created playlist consisting of Canadian Content (CanCon). It consists of 417 songs with 26 hours of music. I put it on shuffle; these are the last 5 songs that played the last time I listened to it.

Favourite song:

“The Writer” by Scotty Newlands.

Top 5 songs in my Spotify Wrapped 2025:

“Kiss Away” – Scotty Newlands

“Brother” – NEEDTOBREATHE & Gavin DeGraw

“All These Things That I’ve Done” – The Killers

“I Am Not Okay” – Jelly Roll

“Livin’ Is Easy” – Scotty Newlands

If you could only watch five movies for the rest of your life, which ones are they and why?

The Wizard of Oz – it’s my favourite movie. Ever.

Titanic – it ignited a fascination with the disaster and with shipwrecks. It’s also just a really good movie.

Hamilton – it’s one of my favourite musicals.

The Lion King (original 1994 film) – it’s my favourite Disney film.

Black Hawk Down – I have a vague, living memory of hearing news about the battle the film is about. It’s one of my favourite war movies.

If you could live anywhere in the world for a year, where would it be?

This is a tough one. There are three places that immediately jump out at me.

1) Castlebar, Ireland

2) London, England

3) New York City, New York

Do you have a prized possession?

Yes. A stuffed animal; a grey cat that was given to me by my parents’ coworker when she returned from a trip to England. I named the cat Sandy; I’ve had her since I was three.

That’s it for now! This one was a little short and sweet, but wanted to get something out before my work schedule gobbles up my spare time and energy. I might do another one of these in the future, or perhaps a This Or That kind of thing. What do you think? Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me? Let me know in the comments and maybe I’ll get to them the next time I do a post like this.

And until next time: Stay safe, stay well, and keep on keeping on.

Catherine

Seasons of Colour

One of my favourite songs is Turn! Turn! Turn! by The Byrds. The basic theme of the song — other than the verses being taken from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 — is that to everything, there is a season.

And to every season there is a colour. I don’t mean the pantone colours of fashion — though those can be fun. Nor do I mean the currently trending “Are you a Deep Winter or a Soft Summer?” — though I’m sure that has helped many a person find what colours look the best on them. No. I’m talking about Mother Nature, colours that the world naturally bathes us in as we traverse through the year. (Though, there may be some man made influences in there, too.)

Let’s start at the beginning of the year when everything is fresh and new and growing. It’s Spring. It’s the latter part of March. The greys of winter still hang overhead, but closer to ground level, nature is waking up. As we traverse through the spring season, this year and all other years, those greys of winter slowly transition to bright greens. Sure, those greens are a little on the grey side because, let’s face it, winter likes to hold onto us with a firm grip for as long as it can, but colour is returning. It takes some time, but out of those grey-greens emerge colours of yellow, pink, orange, red, and violet. Daffodils are one of my favourite flowers because they are the first vibrant signal that the soil is warming up and Spring is here. Their bright green stalks and yellow petals used to adorn one corner of my grandmother’s house and there are several patches of them that grow in the woods at work. Whenever I see their leaves begin to poke through the snow and soil, I know that Spring is officially here and it’s only a matter of time before the daffodils are joined by the arrival of dandelions, tulips, roses, violets, and my favourite flower, lilacs. But let’s not forget about the trees! Yes. While the daffodils are rising out of the remnants of the winter soil, the trees are waking up, too. Deciduous trees like birch, maple, and oak are beginning to bud, and will be followed by the brilliant white and pink blossoms of apple cherry trees. Oak trees will begin to grow acorns that start life small and green, and end life round and brown, and provide food for woodland critters. The evergreens are waking up too. Yes, evergreens, as their name suggests, stay green all year (with a few rare exceptions like the endangered deciduous conifer Dawn Redwood whose leaves turn red in the autumn), but they too begin to change. Junipers and cedars begin to produce small berries that are a primary food source for animals like waxwings, bluebirds, wild turkeys, foxes, and raccoons. Pine and fir trees begin to grow pinecones that red squirrels love to toss into piles on the ground to hoard them in their food caches. Those pinecones start out soft and grey-green before hardening into the brown cones we all recognize as the year progresses.

                              

   

Come June, Spring moves out and lets Summer sublet for a while. Summer’s colours? MORE GREEN! But let’s not forget the yellows of sunflowers, the whites and oranges of lilies, the pinks of peonies, and the hangers on of Spring. Occasionally stormy greys stop by for a visit in the form of thunderstorms, but the brighter hues always return along with the sunshine that provides the fuel for nature to produce the colours she does. The colours of Summer stay pretty tried and true, until eventually Autumn comes knocking with her bracing breezes and vibrant golds and browns. Summer and Autumn tend to cohabitate for a while where I live, much like Winter and Spring, until Summer relinquishes their home and lets Autumn have the place to themself. I live in Southern Ontario, and Autumn here gets pretty vibrant. As a kid, Winter was my favourite season, mainly due to the association with Christmas and getting to spend an evening with family I didn’t see very often. But, as I’ve gotten older, Autumn has taken over as my favourite season. Why? Because, to me, it’s the most vibrant of the seasons. Yes, the flowers are starting to wither and go dormant, seasonal fauna are beginning to migrate south for the winter, and the temperatures are dropping. But the trees. The trees!!! The trees are ablaze in colours of red, orange, and gold. My favourite time of Autumn is when the trees are brightly coloured yet green leaves still cling to the branches. The remaining green adds to the richness of the season in my opinion.

      

Eventually, the array of colour begins to fade, first to brown and then to grey and white. In Southern Ontario, around this time of year, mornings can be foggy, especially in the forested valleys near my home, until the sun rises high and warm enough to burn it off. Those are some of my favourite mornings, especially if I get to walk through the woods at work when enough fog is still in the air and the sun is filtering through it. But, I digress… For some, this combination of brown and grey can give the environment a muddy colour, and I see the validity in that point of view. For me, this muddy colour of mid to late November is merely a transitional period, a mixing palette if you will, connecting the fiery colours of Autumn with the cool colours of Winter.

And fittingly, it is during this muddy period that Autumn finishes up their timeshare and allows Winter to move in. For a few weeks, they share accommodations before Autumn officially (or calendarically anyway) departs and gives Winter free reign to do with the place as they please. And you can be sure that Winter is going to redecorate. They are going to bring in the colours of white, grey, and ice blue with some pine green accents. Those pine green accents never actually get replaced since pine trees are coniferous, and therefore, green all year round (with the exception of one or two species, like the aforementioned Dawn Redwood). And now that Winter has redecorated and fully moved in, many of us in the Northern Hemisphere begin to curl up on our couches with cups of hot chocolate and watch the movies or read the books that bring us comfort. Others venture outside and enjoy winter activities like snowmobiling and skiing, often becoming one with the snowy white environment. Others still take in their surroundings on foot or in their vehicles, enjoying the Christmas lights their neighbours have decorated their properties with. There is a series of five cul-de-sacs in a city about forty-five minutes east of where I live where every house has been professionally decorated with lights and lawn ornaments. A couple of the homeowners set up tins for monetary donations for local charities and bins for food donations for local food banks. Cars are lined up for seemingly kilometres as families take in the lights. This became a short-lived Christmas Eve tradition for my family as it was one of my great-Aunt’s favourite things about the Christmas season. So, if Christmas was held either in the city with these immaculately decorated homes or nearby it, the five of us would pile into a vehicle and go for a drive.

                                

Where I live, Winter can be harsh. It’s a cold, snowy, icy time of year. Cleaning snow off of vehicles and scraping the ice off of the windows is annoying at best and downright impossible at worst.

My tools for snow clearing.
(The shovel is from my father's army kit,
and is older than I am but it still works!)

However, there’s a kind of quiet that only comes when Winter brings it. It’s not an eerie quiet, but rather a peaceful one. Mother Nature’s colours are monochromatic, greyscale, but this allows us room to breathe. Fresh snow is a visual blank canvas, a clean slate if you will. It’s an opportunity to pause, recalibrate, rest. And we can do this because we know that Winter doesn’t stick around forever, and that there is always the promise of a fresh start once Spring moves in again. Many of us begin preparing for that fresh start on January 1st, with the arrival of a new year. Others wait for those daffodils to begin poking through the snow. And neither one of those times is wrong.

Every season, really, brings with it a new palette, new sights, new sounds, new colours, and a fresh opportunity for our own growth. Life is going to life, it’s always going to move forward and drag us along with it. But while it does, we can enjoy the year’s phases and look forward to the things Mother Nature gifts us. Mother Nature knows what she’s doing, and there’s a quiet comfort in that. 

The next time you’re out for a walk in your neighbourhood, stop for a moment and look around. What colours do you see? How do they make you feel? Feel free to tell me in the comments below.

And until next time: Stay safe, stay well, and keep on keeping on.

Catherine

It's Been Awhile...

 …Since I first saw you…

Sorry… couldn’t resist the song lyrics.

But, really, it has been, well, a while. A long while. Over a year. Oof.

I wanted to write more last year. I wanted to be more present. Unfortunately, life has a funny way of derailing even the best of intended plans. Last year, I was continuing to help my mom recover from her shoulder fracture, as well as help her deal with some other health issues that arose. I also had a few minor health issues of my own. Couple all of that with two jobs and the horrible death of my laptop in October 2025, carving out time to write and be here has been tough.

But now, April 2026, I finally have a new laptop. Yes, it took me five months to replace the dead one. Laptops are expensive; especially the ones that best suit my needs as a writer, gamer, and fill-in karaoke host. I was supposed to get a new laptop in January with funds generously gifted to me by family and friends over Christmas, but that money ended up going to a car repair and getting a laptop was put on hold until I got my income tax return. But, I got it, bought a new laptop, and this is the first post written on it.

The lack of a laptop doesn’t mean the blog post ideas haven’t been flowing or that I haven’t been working on things. On the contrary. I’ve been doing some novel outlining (by hand), writing, and thinking about future posts now that I have a functioning laptop again. So, sit tight; there’s a post on the way. I just need to put the finishing touches on it.

To those who have been patiently awaiting a new Life’s Fingerprints Remain post, you have no idea how much I appreciate you. Thank you for sticking around, and here’s to the hope that a lot less than a year passes between this post and the next.

And until the next post: Stay safe, stay well, and keep on keeping on.

Catherine

P.S. Yes, there has been a name change. More on that in a future post.