Tag Archives: accents

Fancy a quickie?


Have you got a mo? I’ll quickly fill you in on what’s been happening at Boofuls Towers Boutique Guest House. Last week we got through 45 pounds of bacon and 45 pounds of sausages, hundreds of eggs and many, many changes of bedding. That’s what’s been going on.  We had to do an emergency bedding shop and spend £650 at Dunelm to restock before the next guests arrived. It’s fair to say the season has started with a vengeance.

I thought they were joking when these seasoned hoteliers told us to brace ourselves for a 16 hour working day. Smart arses, I thought. Trying to scare the newbies. How wrong can you be?

It’s non stop from the second my feet hit the floor at 6.30 in the morning till the minute I lay my head down to sleep around 11pm. I’ve worked out that if I don’t roll out of bed and get straight into the shower then the shower doesn’t happen because before I know it it’s bedtime again.

Once we’ve cooked and served breakfast then we clean the kitchen and dining room. Lashes and me then go and service the rooms, then we can start on the washing. Then the guests start to arrive and we spend we next little while settling them in and getting a bite to eat. Then one of us mans the bar while I get on with prepping the next day’s breakfast.

Boofuls spends his days being handyman, receptionist, telephonist, waiter, and anything else that comes up on a daily basis. Boring it is not. Don’t take all that as meaning we aren’t enjoying ourselves because we’re having a ball! Jus for now though, we have a quiet few days to regroup and recharge our batteries. Bliss.  I might even fins the time to get to Exeter to get my phone fixed after dropping it down the loo. I’ve been without it for three weeks now.

Munki is settling in a her new school. The other day she came in and asked us how to say ‘ball’. lashes looked at her a bit bemused and said ‘ball’ how else can you say it?

Well, it would appear that there is more then one way. Munki told her that her teacher pronounces it as ‘bawl’ and so does the man next door. Once we sat and thought about it we realised that we would say it more like ‘barl.’ Munich’s accent has been changing by the day. Suddenly she has become terribly well spoken. I love it!

Right. That’s the end of the quickie. I’m off to put the washing machine on for the umpteenth time today. Have a great day, folks.

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What’s in your drawers?


So what have you got in your drawers?

Oo-er, steady on Mrs! I meant literal drawers not yer underpinnings, as my mother would have called them. Good grief woman! I know what you’ve got in those drawers, let’s never discuss that again! *shakes head to get that image out of my mind*

Every house has a drawer of plenty, you know, the place where you keep all the bits and bobs. Bits of string, fuses, hair grips. It’s the first place you look when anyone asks, ‘have you got a ….?’

Now, in our teeny temporary flat  we haven’t really got a drawer of plenty since it’s a holiday let and not a real home but we do have a drawer of’ I’ll not be needing that again.’

It was with a huge amount of pleasure and smugness that I filled this particular drawer with all of my cold weather clothing, the padded trousers, the fluffy hat and thick walking socks. Now we live in ‘The English Riviera’ there’ll be no more need for this stuff, I thought. At worst I’ll be needing a light jumper from now on.

How wrong can you be?

One morning last week  I got up and strolled down to the garden in my dressing gown so the dog could have a wee.  Just so we’re clear, the dressing gown isn’t paramount to the action of the dog weeing, it’s just what I happened to be wearing at the time since it was still stupid o’clock in the a.m. The action of poochie weeing isn’t influenced in the slightest by my clothing choices.

So, back to the plot…Imagine my shock and horror when an unexpected icy blast of wind swirled round my ankles. I pulled my dressing gown closer round me and chivvied Douggie the doggie to stop messing about and ‘go pee’. He lifted his leg on command and I could see the shock on his face as the same icy blast caught him round his now exposed nether regions. He was clearly thinking the same as me, ‘What the hell’s going on? We were promised balmy, warm weather, sunny winter days and absolutely no rain’. We’ve been conned!

Totally unimpressed was I as I pulled the thermal trousers and Miss Marple hat, which I’d bought on a previous visit when I’d been caught out by the cold, out of the drawer in readiness for our walk. My Deputy Dawg hat with the earflaps, the one I usually wear for dog walking is still packed up in storage with 95% of our other belongings so MIss Marple saved the day.

It was an eclectic mix of clothing I wore that day, wellies, anorak and Miss Marple knitted hat with a jaunty crocheted flower on the side accented with a little feather. The locals must have thought that we northern folk have no sense of sartorial elegance.

How did they know I was from the north? It was probably because I walk round calling out “Ti reyt cocker? and singing “On Ilkley Moor baht ‘at”

For my non English, and southern, bloggy friends I’l translate for you:

‘Ti reyt cocker’ translates as  ‘How are you this morning?’

‘On Ilkley Moor baht ‘at’ means on Ilkley Moor ( a place in Yorkshire ) without a hat’. 

Once the walk got underway and I’d warmed up a bit I soon recovered from my distress  at the cold weather. Douggie and I yomped  along the coastal path at a rate of knots listening to the sound of the  waves as they crashed against the rocks. It was all very dramatic and invigorating. Worth looking like Miss Marple for.

Ok, I won’t move back up north after all. I still prefer it here.

Adipose Anonymous


It was all a bit lively at my weekly Adipose Anonymous meeting this morning. My newly rediscovered joie do vivre must have been on show because as soon as I walked in up went a shout of “Hey! Our Lesley’s back! We’ve missed you.”

“I’ve been here every week.”

“yeah but now YOU’RE back.”

Heh. That was nice. There was a lot of giggling and silliness going on today. At one point the leader told us that we were being obstreperous. Ha! That was a mistake. Just about every one in the room tried out their own way of saying it and the consensus was that locally it’s pronounced ‘obstrockolous.’ Funny, that’s how my first husband used to say it.

Anyway, you may put your congratulations in the comments box, dear reader. Yours truly is officially no longer a porky bint as I’ve got back to my goal weight. Yay! That’s been hard work. Fair to say I’m feeling very pleased with my little self today. Things are looking up.

On a totally non related note:

I was standing in the kitchen the other day cleaning up the debris that occurs and a ridiculously regular basis when I heard a sound like water pouring.

“What the ………? Oh no!!!”

I’d somehow and without noticing knocked over a jug of water and the whole lot poured off the worktop and straight into a 12 kilo bag of dog food.  Fer Gawd’s sake!! You couldn’t make it up.

Not prepared to throw away £60 of dog food I spread it all out on baking trays and spread them out all over the kitchen to dry out. My God, that stuff stinks when it’s out of the bag! Poo-wee! It took two days to dry it all out. It didn’t cross my mind to put it in the oven to dry out  until I was scooping the last bit back into it’s bag.

 

hoe-ass


Being born and bred in Littletown as she was I suppose that it was inevitable that despite half of her family coming from outside the area Munki was going to pick up the local accent.

It wasn’t too bad while she was at nursery school but once she started at ‘big’ school the full Littletown accent has come to the fore. Oh Dear Lord.

ELOCUTION LESSONS NEEDED OVER HERE, STAT!!

Only last week she was telling me about a beautiful hoe-ass she’d seen.

“A beautiful WHAT?!?!?

“Hoe-ass, Nanny.”

“Did you mean ‘horse?”

“That’s what I said, hoe-ass.”

“No. You said hoe-ass. Try saying horse.”

Quick as a flash she replied, “Ok Nanny, I know what to say: “Pony!”

Clever clogs. Had she not pronounced it as pawny it would have been hysterical.

She really has a a veritable smorgasbord of witty and clever comebacks. Not bad for a five year old. I always used to tell Lashes that one day she’d have to deal with a child like herself and I’d stand back and laugh and laugh while reminding her that she was exactly the same at that age. Well. Here it is. Retribution time, Lashes! Heh. Funny isn’t it how what goes around comes around? God help us all when MUnki’s fifteen. Then she’ll be witty, clever AND have an attitude as well as have the ability to come up with a really reasoned argument as to why we should allow her to something completely unreasonable.

Anyway, let’s put the ghost of Christmas future back in it’s box and return to the present day: Munki’s little Littletownisms, while they usually make me laugh also assault my ears and make them bleed a bit when I hear them.

It’s not long ago that she was telling me that one of her friends had a toe itch that they’d taken to skoowul. “A toe itch? Have they got athletes foot?” “GNAW NANNY!! A toe-itch!! To shine a light with.”

“A torch! Why didn’t you say so?”

The word ‘more’ has turned into ‘mowah’ ‘short’ has turned into ‘show-ert’ Just about every single syllable word has had an extra syllable added but on the other hand letters, and in fact whole words, are frequently left out of sentences. For example: ‘I’m going bed now.’ GAAAAHHH ‘TO’ bed!I’m going TO bed. It’s not difficult!!

Recently I heard: “I keep getting texies “It took just about all the resolve I had not to walk over and quietly whisper ‘texts’ in her ear. It’s not unusual in shops and pubs to hear people asking for a packet of crisp. Crisp? Crisp what? Do you mean crisps? No wonder visitors from outside of the area think all northerners are thick.

Moving on before I bust a blood vessel:

I popped into the local beauty salon for an eyebrow wax and tint. Due to my unusually tender and delicate skin I ended up with my poor eyebrow area all red and swollen. Not only that but the beautician had obviously misunderstood when I said I like my brows arched and gave me at the whole McDonald’s golden arch shape – except in dark brown, not gold. That would be silly. I left the salon looking like a sad clown with my big semicircular brows and red face.

When I got home Boofuls took one look at me and asked me why I got my eyebrows waxed and tinted. “To make them more prominent and frame my face.” “Mission accomplished” he said in a scathing tone and just walked off, leaving me standing there now looking and feeling like a sad clown. Harsh.

Sawp!


Due to some stunningly bad housekeeping on my part ( well, I did warn him before he married me that I was a rubbish housewife) we managed to run out of soap yesterday.

“We’ll pick some up on the way to the studio”, says I. After walking round the shop three times and not being able to see any I asked the man behind the counter; “Do you have any soap?”

“Yes dear, all  different kinds. It’s all on the back wall. Look.” I was impressed that such a small  corner shop would have a whole selection of soaps. I turned round to survey my choices.

And  looked  up; at a wall full of tins and tins of assorted soups.

“No, I meant SOAP not SOUP.” The gentleman looked at me strangely.

“Hang on, I’ll try it in a local accent. “Av yenny sawp?”

Instantly his expression cleared and he replied, “Oh! Sawp “(funny to hear from an Asian chap). “Gnaw loov, wiv no sawp, only shower gel.”

Shower gel it is then.

 

 

Where ‘made’ rhymes with ‘bed’


Aye, tee reet, cocker?

Oh yes, here I am back on my favourite subject, accents.

I live in an area where the teenagers try to sound like black Americans, innit man.  The middle aged people sound like farmers, or as they say here, furmers, and ‘made’ rhymes with ‘bed’.

We also  have some of the longest vowel sounds in the entire world.

Take the word ‘maid’, although one would expect it to given the example above, in this instance it doesn’t sound like ‘bed’  at all but takes on a completely different sound and becomes long enough to have about 6000 hideously flatted a’s in it. for example:

” E’s proper posh, e’s even go’ ‘is own maaaaaaaaaaaaaaid.” Makes me shudder to hear it.

Ah yes, h’s no longer exist,  t’s are either completely elided, used as a glottal stop  or changed into d’s in the style of our American cousins.  You know, it took me years to work out that a pinata (little squiggly thing on top of the ‘n’) was actually a pinata and not a pinada, and only then because I saw it written down.

Oh how times change. When I was young I’d have been given a quick sideswipe from my mother  if I’d have dared do any of those things. Hell, I didn’t even say ‘bloody’ in front of her till I was in my 30’s when I discovered that I could get away with swearing as long as I didn’t do it using slovenly speech.

Munki, now approaching the ripe old age of four, has been gathering an eclectic mix of accents. She’s a delight, and sometimes hysterically funny, to listen to. Somehow she’s retained Boofuls’ RP pronunciation of ‘sandcarstle’ and has added to her RP vocabulary list with  words like ‘work’ and ‘perfect’ sounding to northern ears as ‘waaark’ and ‘paarfect’.

At the other end of the scale she also has TTF’s influence. He’s probably been affronted by her gentle vowel sounds and been tutoring her in some good old germanic influenced flattened  and heavy vowel sounds. ‘No’ has turned into ‘gnaw’ and this week I’ve noticed that she’s picked up the very local habit of adding extraneous ‘i’ sounds to words as in –  and I quote:

“Nanny, I’ve got a toe itch.”

“A toe itch? Well scratch it.” I replied.

“Gnaw, Nanny (or Nanneh  – as the locals would have it) a toe itch. A toe itch to shine a light.”

“Do you mean a torch?”

“Yes, A toe itch.”

Dear God. Elocution lessons here please!

Ps: for the uninitiated, ‘Aye, tee reet, cocker?’ means: Hello, how are you?

Tanjooberrymutts


By the time you read through this you will understand “TANJOOBERRYMUTTS”. And only then will you be ready to take on China !

Believe me… you WILL understand!!!

Here goes

The following is a telephonic exchange between maybe you
as a Hotel guest & room-service in China … 

Room Service: “Morrin. Roon sirbees.” 

Guest: “Sorry, I thought I dialled room-service.” 

Room Service: ” Rye , Roon sirbees…morrin! Joowish to
oddor sunteen?” 

Guest: “Uh… Yes, I’d like to order bacon & eggs.” 

Room Service: “Ow ulai den?” 

Guest: ” …….What??” 

Room Service: “Ow ulai den?!?… Pryed, boyud, pochd?” 

Guest: “Oh, the eggs! How do I like them? Sorry..
Scrambled, please.” 

Room Service: “Ow ulai dee bayken? Creepse?” 

Guest: “Crisp will be fine.” 

Room Service: “Hokay. An sahn toes?” 

Guest: “What?” 

Room Service: “An toes. ulai sahn toes?” 

Guest: “I…. Don’t think so..” 

RoomService: “No? Udo wan sahn toes???” 

Guest: “I feel really bad about this, but I don’t know what
‘udo wan sahn toes’ means.” 

RoomService: “Toes! Toes!… Why Uoo don wan toes?…
Ow bow anglish moppin we botter?” 

Guest: “Oh, English muffin!!! I’ve got it! You were saying
‘toast’… Fine…Yes, an English muffin will be fine.” 

RoomService: “We botter?” 

Guest: “No, just put the botter on the side.” 

RoomService: “Wad?!?” 

Guest: “I mean butter… Just put the butter on the side.” 

RoomService: “Copy?” 

Guest: “Excuse me?” 

RoomService: “Copy.. tea… meel?” 

Guest: “Yes. Coffee, please… And that’s everything.” 

RoomService: “One Minnie. Scramah egg, creepse bayken,
Anglish moppin, we botter on sigh & copy… Rye ??” 

Guest: “Whatever you say.” 

RoomService: “Tanjooberrymutts.” 

Guest: “You’re welcome”

Remember I did say “By the time you read through this
… YOU WILL UNDERSTAND ‘TANJOOBERRYMUTTS’

And you do, don’t you!