Chapter J : Abroad

1 : Friends And Neighbours

N.B. The equivalent female-only term, maw,
is much less used these days.

Starting a sentence with Wal, bor . . .
gives just that little more time to fashion a reply.
Another greeting, usually between men :
. . .Owl' Par(t)ner.

Skipper is greatly amused by residences (abodes)
entitled Mine; Yourn; (H)is etc.; yet this is not
so far removed from the modern "My place or yours?" dilemma.

She hen'(t) bin-a moine all yare, 'cause
Oi 'oon(t) goo round-a 'is toime Ar gal be atoom.

"Friendly" rivalries often arose from the precept that :
only Cleanliness comes anywhere nare Godliness
(and, of course, a Woman's Place is . . . ) :-

Sheer go(t)-a do suffin' abou(t) Ar plairce -
thass loike a pigstoy,
do she 'oont navver 'ev noo company come.
Wal, would you, bor?!

(Stew in Norwich is a state of panic or temper
i.e. heated = puckaterry)

I suspect stive, stew and stove have a common origin
(Dutch?) to do with upward convection currents
caused by warmth . . .
Wal, cen you do ba(tt)er, Master?

^Top^

2 : Weather Lore

Strangely (or not?) we are devoid of colourful
local sayings - outside the usual "Red sky at night" etc.
However, there is brutal truth in one saying :-
"As the days lengthen, so shall the cold strengthen" -
April being a vicious month in Norfolk,
and May not much better.

We do have (but not exclusively) the mobile
dwelling-place of Will's Mother. Any "looking black"
(or bad) over her residence is a portent of imminent
wet weather; but, of course, she has to move house
through 180 degrees, if the prevailing wind does
the same - else the rain is already fast clearing-up!

Heavy rain descends in the usual cat, dog or stair-rod
form, or comes teeming down; a heavy fall being a
floa(t)er or a reamer. But at least we have our own
variety of drizzle - the smur (smear); also mizzle.

Thass a-smurin' a-rairn is bad news for wearers of
spectacles like me. (N.B. the prime cause - the rain -
is clearly, and helpfully, identified).
Norfolk people (vide farmworkers) may shelter from it :
but they stand-up out of it. The rest of the time they
are bending over, toiling . . .

A drear, damp day is termed a daggly owl' day :
dag being dew or mist. (Daggly can also mean ragged).

Leasty is another term for damp or drizzly.
Showery is dingin'.
A coarse morning is the opposite of a fine one
(of course!), or is described as rude (rough) weather.

In the winter, ar(t)er tha(t) hev snew (snowed),
friz (frozen) and then a thow has set-in,
the snow woo(t) hev thew will turn to sluss.
This is the particular example of
"muddy, dirty water" which we all hate!.
The term slub (for mud itself) is not used in the more
well-drained urban areas (except as builders' jargon).

We even have our own word for
mist (of a foggy nature) - rook (roke).
Rime frost drops the 'frost',
in favour of the plural - rimes.
Thin ice with air bubbles underneath is cats' ice.

Close, oppressive summer weather is called thongy;
and swallackin' (lack of swale i.e. shade, no doubt?)
is very hot (sweltering).
A gusty wind is, rather, gushy. The notorious
March winds are Winnol wather (Saint's Day
being the 3rd March).

Certainly, my grandmother always referred to a
tempest, rather than a storm. She was also very fond
of the expression : Black as the (h)airkes
(hakes = fireplace pot-hooks);
which she would as often apply to me as to
the sky (when I was a sno(tt)y-noosed kid).

She didn't mention "bull's noon" (midnight),
but then she was early to bed . . .

^Top^

3 : Labor Omnia . . .

Sweat is not something to be coy about in Norfolk.
We have seen the inverted form of expression used in
extremely cold weather; the positive form uses the
splendid word muckwash, as in -
Oi'm all of a muckwash.

An ordinary wash involves running
clean water over the skin.
Now even a roughneck Norfolk labourer isn't going to
pretend that rivulets of perspiration (sorry, sweat)
comprise clean liquid. He is also well aware that the
sweat is likely to get mixed-up with the dust and dirt
(muck) inherent in the working environment.

Not a pretty thought, but a typically honest one.
Sweating is also referred to as having a bead on.

Washing a small number of clothes, in an ad-hoc
fashion, is puggin' 'em through. This expression comes
from the pottery trades, where a pug-mill is utilised.
Then you might hairze them.
(haze = put out in the sun to dry).

Country (farming etc.) tasks are listed by Skipper
in very large numbers, many of which
* could have sweaty effects;
* (bar troshin') are unknown to City folk like me.
Blast, E say, tha(t) in(t) moi fau't!

On the other hand, plenty of City workers have had
strenuous manual jobs, over the years/centuries.

Like many industries, the "boot and shoe trade" has
markedly declined since WWII; having been, for a
long time, the predominant Norwich industry.

A little of its jargon has crept into Norwich speech.
Snobs (not cobblers) is the generic term for persons
engaged in the shoe-making business.
I wonder what this tells us ! (We shall need a new
word for the Hyacinth Buckets of the world??).

One of the most prestigious occupations (special skills)
in the trade was that of clicker - so called because of
the distinctive noise made by their operations i.e.
cutting patterns from leather with extremely.
sharp knives. An elite within an elite, perhaps?

A cotton-reel has the grander name reel-a-bobbin,
as in the weaving trade.

^Top^

4 : Flora And Fauna

I knew about blackbirds (and that one of them
- the mummy one - isn't); and even that the
thrush was called a mavish (my Dad said so).
Robins and sparrows (oh, seagulls, of course)
just about completed my impoverished list;
save the damned Metropolitan pigeons.

These days thrush is a fungal complaint and
wood-pigeons (dows or ring-dows) are more
common than ever thought possible
(certainly more than thrushes).

As children, we were fascinated with snails,
which we gave three syllables :
dodderman (instead of dodman or hodmedod);
and with the delightful bishy-barney-bees (ladybirds).

"Daddy Long Legs" were a familiar object; but that
fun name was held nationally, so nothing to shout about.
Even canaries, which had such a proud local heritage,
were known in all parts by that same name.

The name long dog (greyhound) was so
prosaic that we didn't take any pride in it.

In Norwich we even called mice mice (!),
but were scared of wapsies.
Although we called woodlice sows [ pigs ], we
were much puzzled by it; as most of us had seen
the odd female pig - and noticed little in common.

Bishy, bishy, barney-bee
When will your weddin' be?
If it be 'amara day,
Tairk your wings an' floi away!
^Top^

5 : On The Hop

I doubt if I have ever seen more than one (proper)
toad, but am well aware that it rhymes with wood.
In the City we did not share any rural superstitions
in their regard.
Nor did we know anything about their 'country' names :
"crawling toads", paddocks or puddocks;
nor about the third definition of toad
i.e. "running toads" (natterjacks).

Dogs and cats, if they would let you, were subjects
for coaching (this was coaxing, not training!).
At least, at home with the domestic animals, you
were likely to be droi-shod (have dry feet), instead of
we(t)-shed (after messing about in ponds!).
Shod - shed . . . why?

^Top^

6 : Town & Country

Whoi?. Our navver haad-a the poied wagtairl,
le(t) aloon the Nanny Dishwaasher!

(Oi tal a loi - I heard of the harnser via
Billa Shairkspare; roundabou(t), loike.)

Ignorance applied to a second (missel-) type of
thrush i.e. the fulfer; and to a sparrow other than
the house-variety.
Hedge-sparrow = dunnock, hedge Be(tt)y
or plain hedgeman.

I can confirm that a Norwich tabby cat is a Cyprus cat.
On the other hand, we called ants ants - not pishamires;
and earwigs earwigs, certainly not pishamire barneybees.

In Norwich, we were able to make fun of our own
accent, with its long-drawn-out vowel sounds.
But, as City Slickers, we rather turned the following
incantation into an anti-rural thing. Instead of -

All the wa-ay ter Swa-a-afham,
t'ree days tro-o-oshin,
an' all fer no-o-othin',
we would say:-
Oi come from Swa-a-afham an'
dorn(t) kno-ow no-o-othin.

^Top^

7 : Nostaglia Rules

We all wore pullovers (and caps) : the former were
then only rarely termed garnseys (Jersey, Guernsey,
any C.I. will do) - how many are now?

Wesku(t)s (waistcoats) were already going
out of fashion ("three-pieces").  See : tannups.

If we tore our clothes we ren(t) them
(as in the Biblical "rent asunder").
Another meaning for latch is to catch (as in
clothes on a nail), or otherwise get tangled-up.

We were encouraged not to boss our fellow schoolkids
around, by being biggo(t)y; or we might be paid-out
in kind - with a good soling ( = beating).

The Norfolk term bo(tt)y (though similar to bossy)
means, rather, self-important and stuck-up.

We were often accused of being fumble-fisted
in our lack of dexterity.
A really gormless child might be written-off as
not being much of a mucher - an expression used
(negatively) for anything regarded as worthless or
well below standard.

If parents were in a hurry, children would be
admonished for dawdling i.e. sarn(t)ering[1] along ;
likewise for stopping to stare (gaping) -

Woo(t) a-you a-gawpin' a(t)? -
come you on, do we'll be lair(t)!

^Top^

8 : Name Of The Game

Tha(t) Oi din(t)! . . . .
Oo yis you did dint-a : look (h)air,
thass a gri(t) hool!

In Norwich we had see-saws and played leap-frog;
but unbeknowns (N. B. plural) to us, these activities
had different County names
i.e. ti(tt)ermator(t)er and huckabuck.

We all know what "high jinks" are, yes?.
Jinks (or jacks), in the County, is a game of five-stones.
Game is, of course, gairm - by the way.

There were still a few carthorses in commercial use,
so the expressions hossin(g) abou(t) (being boisterous)
or hossin'-along (hurrying) were quite meaningful
to us; as was the stately opposite -
lollopin' along. (cf. saunter)

Petty theft (Oi be(t) you dussn(t)!), from
orchards and gardens, was not unknown;
dignified, as elsewhere, by the name "scrumping".
We did not call gooseberries by the Norfolk fapes
[ or thapes, thepes ], but used our own variant : guzegogs.

Our country cousins, caught in the act,
might be chastised by their parents:-

Oi'll roightsoide [ rightside ] you, you warmin(t)!

^Top^

9 : Adultery

We were more intrigued by adults' quarrels and
petty insults, than by their Other activities -
which they kept extremely quiet about.

A particular wife/husband/girlfriend might be
dismissed as - not much of a mucher
(see Para. 7 above); which tended to be the
most generous form of criticism (see mawther).
Other forms are largely unprintable . . .

A duzzy ol' fule (dozey?) might also be slarverin'
(dribbling, literally, with saliva) ; or merely
rabbiting-on (gorn' on) i.e. slarverin'-on.
Hack-slarverin' is to babble in an excited,
stammering manner.

Snobbish persons were an abomination but,
with the term snob pre-empted, they were called
"(h)alf-sixers".
Highly convivial folk (not a little odd) were -
as elsewhere - said to be a caution : a term of approbation.

A short, but thick-set and squat person is,
still, termed stuggy (stocky?).
A person of any height, thick-set around the
hips and thighs, is said to be strong-docked.

Even in the City he/she may be wearing a slop :
an apron, rather than a full farmhand's uniform.

^Top^

10 : Revelry

When the pub was crowded you had to get the others to
hitch-up (move along) before you could join the bench.
Often the joanna was playing,
for a "good old sing-song".
My mother was a regular performer on the piano.

Getting "merry" or tipsy, in Norfolk, was to get bosky.
A range of euphemisms seemed to be available in the
metropolis of Norwich, for over-indulgence : including
juiced, slewed and - my favourite - kimmissed
(derived from chemist, and powerful potions)

To join-in the fun, jollificairtions, (or any collective
activity) is to mow-in (from meadow-mowing?)

Yuletide festivities have always included a deal of
imbibing. Sadly, there used to be much more
carol-singing (perhaps by peripatetic Mumpers).
I know that 31st December is Old Year's Night,
because it was my father's birthday.
The whole world celebrates, he would say.

High-spirits are not always greatly appreciated by
older onlookers; so several similar terms can be
employed - invariably prefaced by
"do you stop that . . . ."
annic(kin'); nonnickin' (horseplay); skywannickin'.

In addition to shanny, we have
shay-brained for a silly person.

Being in hearty good spirits is quite acceptable,
of course. Such a person is bruff.

^Top^

11 : Parish Pump

They needed to have the banns read, in earlier
marriages. In Norfolk these were sibbits or sibrits.

A doss (hassock) still makes it easier on the knees!.

The church collection has always been grateful for
the Widow's Mite. This word (small amount) is still
in general use in Norfolk. A smi(tt)ock is, possibly,
even smaller.

Perhaps contributions would be sought, on a
"round-robin" basis, if there were a death or
other trouble in the community.
A collection paper, or a petition, is a brief.

The church door, or the Lytch gate, like many other
such items, will oft-times require to be hanked-up (fastened).

Some parish boundaries are an odd shape,
and a bit of one parish may jut-out into another.
This projection, like a medical hernia, is called a
herne; and sometimes occurs in place-names
e.g. Beeston Herne.

The Parish Lantern was credited to the Almighty,
being a term for the moon. It seems Parish Councils
have always been tight-fisted !.
A moon traversed by broken cloud, is said to be muddled.

The parish in which one was born is called one's
nair(t)ive (native = the place, not the person!).
After living all his life (so far . . .) in the same village,
it was said of him that -

E hen(t) navver left 'is nair(t)ive.

As in the Dutch plein, an open space or square
in the village or town is known as a Plairn.
(Plain, as in Salisbury).
In a well-appointed town there may be premises of
a pork-butcher (?), otherwise known as a kiderer.

In bad weather, there is bound to be
a pwidge (puddle) or two!.