"Carl's Lounge" (Off-Topic Discussion, Traditional Knife "Tales & Vignettes")

I went for a walk last week and nearly stepped on a young rattlesnake right on the asphalt walking path by my neighborhood. It was only about a foot long, but I'm still glad I avoided him!
 
A complete non sequitur...
I always imagine Paul speaking in an accent when I read his posts. The combination of "Buddy" and Scottish accent does not compute.
 
A complete non sequitur...
I always imagine Paul speaking in an accent when I read his posts. The combination of "Buddy" and Scottish accent does not compute.

Sorry to disappoint Frank, but my accent is a bit of a mess. A jumble of British colloquialisms and living in every corner of the UK has rendered me a regional question mark. Most people would hear my accent and describe me as either South Wales (which is where I picked up the 'buddy' as in "Alright buddee! I'll see you by hyear right now in a minette" which translates as; hello, I will be with you shortly) or East Belfast which I have sponged from my wife who comes from there and pronounces Northern Ireland; Norn Iron, and sounds as hard as a coffin nail. I also have quite a large chunk of hidden Yorkshire floating under the surface which rears it's head if I'm in company from there - well when I say Yorkshire it's actually East Hull. (I can see you cringe Jack!) where the place is pronounced Ull and is the only part of the UK I know where Yes rhymes with no - yuur and nuur.

Now then, if you can imagine that Frank, I'll be impressed ;)

Paul
 
A complete non sequitur...
I always imagine Paul speaking in an accent when I read his posts. The combination of "Buddy" and Scottish accent does not compute.

I caught it as a half-distinct "bood'ə́" in the flurry.

I mean, it's not like we would actually be able to understand the man, live.


:D

~ P.

("bood" as rhymes with "hood," and a wee clip of a noise in place of an actual second syllable.)
 
Sorry to disappoint Frank, but my accent is a bit of a mess. A jumble of British colloquialisms and living in every corner of the UK has rendered me a regional question mark. Most people would hear my accent and describe me as either South Wales (which is where I picked up the 'buddy' as in "Alright buddee! I'll see you by hyear right now in a minette" which translates as; hello, I will be with you shortly) or East Belfast which I have sponged from my wife who comes from there and pronounces Northern Ireland; Norn Iron, and sounds as hard as a coffin nail. I also have quite a large chunk of hidden Yorkshire floating under the surface which rears it's head if I'm in company from there - well when I say Yorkshire it's actually East Hull. (I can see you cringe Jack!) where the place is pronounced Ull and is the only part of the UK I know where Yes rhymes with no - yuur and nuur.

Good post Paul :D That East Belfast accent is certainly a hard one! Sounds like an interesting mix my friend :) I've travelled a fair bit myself, which has certainly softened my accent a lot compared to when I was young, and having the thickest possible Yorkshire accent possible was considered a sign of masculinity! :D

I have to blame Frank for adding the occasional 'heck' to my vocabulary, though 'flippy neck' has of course been a long recognised Yorkshire medical condition! ;) :D
 
Good post Paul :D That East Belfast accent is certainly a hard one! Sounds like an interesting mix my friend :) I've travelled a fair bit myself, which has certainly softened my accent a lot compared to when I was young, and having the thickest possible Yorkshire accent possible was considered a sign of masculinity! :D

I have to blame Frank for adding the occasional 'heck' to my vocabulary, though 'flippy neck' has of course been a long recognised Yorkshire medical condition! ;) :D

Love it Jack!

things I had to figure out when I met my wife: Answers on a post card please...

- Yur a geg
- bout ye
- awayin the cyar
- that thur mawn
- wind yur neck in
- wipe yur bake
- Paul, see while I'm in th' shour, git that flour mopped oor I'll be ragin with ye, you buck eejit!

I love her dearly. Goodness knowns what our child will sound like?!

:)
 
Love it Jack!

things I had to figure out when I met my wife: Answers on a post card please...

- Yur a geg
- bout ye
- awayin the cyar
- that thur mawn
- wind yur neck in
- wipe yur bake
- Paul, see while I'm in th' shour, git that flour mopped oor I'll be ragin with ye, you buck eejit!

I love her dearly. Goodness knowns what our child will sound like?!

:)

Yes indeed Paul, as you know I used to go out with a Belfast girl myself! :D

I have a friend who, despite having lived in Yorkshire for 20 years, still has a broad Essex accent, and still talks in the local vernacular! His wife is from Bolton, so talks like the comedian Peter Kay! Their three kids seem completely unfazed and unaffected! :D

One of the most interesting things about the GEC book are the extensive quotations from earlier works, and there are a number of funny accounts of the old Sheffield cutlers and their inpenetrable accents. In one anecdote, an old boy quotes his long-dead father, but his understanding of what his father meant is actually incorrect (as anyone from South Yorkshire would know, even after the passage of time) :D

I still find the expression "Put wood in oil" (meaning "Close the door") amusing! :D

Anyone venturing into South Yorkshire without a local guide is asking for trouble (or at least a lot of confusion)! ;) :D :thumbup:
 
Interessting discoussion about the accent and language from The Island. ;)

As I don´t understand many of that what Paul was writting in post #7386 it seems to be same like here in Germany, and propably on many other places in the world. When I use to travel from my location to Munich (120 km) or 100 km in the other direction I don´t understand the people there and they don´t understand me - at least when speaking in my original dialect without any clearance to make it more understandable to others. Sometimes when I write an SMS with my wif on my cellphone I use to write in our dialect. Sometimes we know what the other one wants, and sometimes not ;)
 
The accents of the British isles are many and varied.
I think "buddy" or "butty" is from the coal mines of Wales. It refers to your work mate in a pair of miners.
Not to be confused with a "chip butty" which is a sandwich made of bread butter and chips(fries)YUM:)

In some regions the difference in accent can be quite a hurdle .
My dad worked at the Raleigh (bicycles and toys) in Nottingham in the late 50s and the 60s.
He tells the tale of the men from the outlying locality of Cotgrave who came in during the night to load bicycles into crates for shipment by train Scotland the next day.
Dad and his mates whose own accents were fairly thick overheard the Cotgrave men saying "put em in tight n narrer" .They deciphered this as the manner in which the bikes should be packed into the crates -tight and narrow-
At some point some one asked them what they meant.
Turns out they were referring to the Express train to Scotland -The Tartan Arrow.
:rolleyes:
Cotgrave is 16 miles from Nottingham City.
Hillbilly ratingr-8/10 - 1960 stats
 
Interestingly the language which most closely resembles English is Frisian.
If you listen to the weather report in Frisian but don't speak it you will probably be able to understand it.
The syntax(I think that's the word) is closer to English than to German or Dutch.
 
Great thought, meako. And the truth indeed. Languages in general is something that is very interessting. I didn´t know about the relationship to Frisian and German. But, honestly, I´ve never met a frisian speaking person in person.

German and Dutch are quite related. At least when everyone is speaking slowly and accurate. ;) I´ve made some relationship to Danish, Swedish and Norwegian language as well.

Some people / origins say that bavarian is an own language and not just a dialect. As we use just three cases in our synthax and an own way of pronouncing words. Strange to explain in english. ;)
 
That's interesting meako, I had a custom built Raleigh Pro road bike back in the 70's. Made in England :)
 
I am amused by accents, as well.
When my family moved from Pennsylvania to Texas, I was 12 years old. My mother would bring me with her to the hardware store, etc. to translate. Just like the immigrants of my grandparents generation, children pick up languages faster than adults. Everyone sounded to her like Boomhower from "King of the Hill".
 
Great thought, meako. And the truth indeed. Languages in general is something that is very interessting. I didn´t know about the relationship to Frisian and German. But, honestly, I´ve never met a frisian speaking person in person.

German and Dutch are quite related. At least when everyone is speaking slowly and accurate. ;) I´ve made some relationship to Danish, Swedish and Norwegian language as well.

Some people / origins say that bavarian is an own language and not just a dialect. As we use just three cases in our synthax and an own way of pronouncing words. Strange to explain in english. ;)

The SF writer Poul Anderson wrote an essay on atomic theory.

It was written as though English had never been invaded by non-Germanic words. Anderson called it:


Uncleftish Beholding

For most of its being, mankind did not know what things are made
of, but could only guess. With the growth of worldken, we began
to learn, and today we have a beholding of stuff and work that
watching bears out, both in the workstead and in daily life.

The underlying kinds of stuff are the *firststuffs*, which link
together in sundry ways to give rise to the rest. Formerly we
knew of ninety-two firststuffs, from waterstuff, the lightest and
barest, to ymirstuff, the heaviest. Now we have made more, such
as aegirstuff and helstuff.

The firststuffs have their being as motes called *unclefts*.
These are mightly small; one seedweight of waterstuff holds a
tale of them like unto two followed by twenty-two naughts. Most
unclefts link together to make what are called *bulkbits*. Thus,
the waterstuff bulkbit bestands of two waterstuff unclefts, the
sourstuff bulkbit of two sourstuff unclefts, and so on. (Some
kinds, such as sunstuff, keep alone; others, such as iron, cling
together in ices when in the fast standing; and there are yet
more yokeways.) When unlike clefts link in a bulkbit, they make
*bindings*. Thus, water is a binding of two waterstuff unclefts
with one sourstuff uncleft, while a bulkbit of one of the
forestuffs making up flesh may have a thousand thousand or more
unclefts of these two firststuffs together with coalstuff and
chokestuff.

At first is was thought that the uncleft was a hard thing that
could be split no further; hence the name. Now we know it is made
up of lesser motes. There is a heavy *kernel* with a forward
bernstonish lading, and around it one or more light motes with
backward ladings. The least uncleft is that of ordinary
waterstuff. Its kernel is a lone forwardladen mote called a
*firstbit*. Outside it is a backwardladen mote called a
*bernstonebit*. The firstbit has a heaviness about 1840-fold that
of the bernstonebit. Early worldken folk thought bernstonebits
swing around the kernel like the earth around the sun, but now we
understand they are more like waves or clouds.

In all other unclefts are found other motes as well, about as
heavy as the firstbit but with no lading, known as *neitherbits*.
We know a kind of waterstuff with one neitherbit in the kernel
along with the firstbit; another kind has two neitherbits. Both
kinds are seldom.

The next greatest firststuff is sunstuff, which has two firstbits
and two bernstonebits. The everyday sort also has two neitherbits
in the kernel. If there are more or less, the uncleft will soon
break asunder. More about this later.

The third firststuff is stonestuff, with three firstbits, three
bernstonebits, and its own share of neitherbits. And so it goes,
on through such everyday stuffs as coalstuff (six firstbits) or
iron (26) to ones more lately found. Ymirstuff (92) was the last
until men began to make some higher still.

It is the bernstonebits that link, and so their tale fastsets how
a firststuff behaves and what kinds of bulkbits it can help make.
The worldken of this behaving, in all its manifold ways, is
called *minglingken*. Minglingers have found that as the
uncleftish tale of the firststuffs (that is, the tale of
firststuffs in their kernels) waxes, after a while they begin to
show ownships not unlike those of others that went before them.
So, for a showdeal, stonestuff (3), glasswortstuff (11),
potashstuff (19), redstuff (37), and bluegraystuff (55) can each
link with only one uncleft of waterstuff, while coalstuff (6),
flintstuff (14), germanstuff (22), tin (50), and lead (82) can
each link with four. This is readily seen when all are set forth
in what is called the *roundaround board of the firststuffs*.

When an uncleft or a bulkbit wins one or more bernstonebits above
its own, it takes on a backward lading. When it loses one or
more, it takes on a forward lading. Such a mote is called a
*farer*, for that the drag between unlike ladings flits it. When
bernstonebits flit by themselves, it may be as a bolt of
lightning, a spark off some faststanding chunk, or the everyday
flow of bernstoneness through wires.

Coming back to the uncleft itself, the heavier it is, the more
neitherbits as well as firstbits in its kernel. Indeed, soon the
tale of neitherbits is the greater. Unclefts with the same tale
of firstbits but unlike tales of neitherbits are called
*samesteads*. Thus, everyday sourstuff has eight neitherbits with
its eight firstbits, but there are also kinds with five, six,
seven, nine, ten, and eleven neitherbits. A samestead is known by
the tale of both kernel motes, so that we have sourstuff-13,
sourstuff-14, and so on, with sourstuff-16 being by far the most
found. Having the same number of bernstonebits, the samesteads of
a firststuff behave almost alike minglingly. They do show some
unlikenesses, outstandingly among the heavier ones, and these can
be worked to sunder samesteads from each other.

Most samesteads of every firststuff are unabiding. Their kernels
break up, each at its own speed. This speed is written as the
*half-life*, which is how long it takes half of any deal of the
samestead thus to shift itself. The doing is known as
*lightrotting*. It may happen fast or slowly, and in any of
sundry ways, offhanging on the makeup of the kernel. A kernel may
spit out two firstbits with two neitherbits, that is, a sunstuff
kernel, thus leaping two steads back in the roundaround board and
four weights back in heaviness. It may give off a bernstonebit
from a neitherbit, which thereby becomes a firstbit and thrusts
the uncleft one stead up in the board while keeping the same
weight. It may give off a *forwardbit*, which is a mote with the
same weight as a bernstonebit but a forward lading, and thereby
spring one stead down in the board while keeping the same weight.
Often, too, a mote is given off with neither lading nor
heaviness, called the *weeneitherbit*. In much lightrotting, a
mote of light with most short wavelength comes out as well.

For although light oftenest behaves as a wave, it can be looked
on as a mote, the *lightbit*. We have already said by the way
that a mote of stuff can behave not only as a chunk, but as a
wave. Down among the unclefts, things do not happen in steady
flowings, but in leaps between bestandings that are forbidden.
The knowledge-hunt of this is called *lump beholding*.

Nor are stuff and work unakin. Rather, they are groundwise the
same, and one can be shifted into the other. The kinship between
them is that work is like unto weight manifolded by the fourside
of the haste of light.

By shooting motes into kernels, worldken folk have shifted
samesteads of one firststuff into samesteads of another. Thus did
they make ymirstuff into aegirstuff and helstuff, and they have
afterward gone beyond these. The heavier firststuffs are all
highly lightrottish and therefore are not found in the
greenworld.

Some of the higher samesteads are *splitly*. That is, when a
neitherbit strikes the kernel of one, as for a showdeal
ymirstuff-235, it bursts into lesser kernels and free
neitherbits; the latter can then split more ymirstuff-235. When
this happens, weight shifts into work. It is not much of the
whole, but nevertheless it is awesome.

With enough strength, lightweight unclefts can be made to
togethermelt. In the sun, through a row of strikings and
lightrottings, four unclefts of waterstuff in this wise become
one of sunstuff. Again some weight is lost as work, and again
this is greatly big when set beside the work gotten from a
minglingish doing such as fire.

Today we wield both kind of uncleftish doings in weapons, and
kernelish splitting gives us heat and bernstoneness. We hope to
do likewise with togethermelting, which would yield an unhemmed
wellspring of work for mankindish goodgain.

Soothly we live in mighty years!
 
I thought you guys might enjoy this book excerpt I stumbled upon. It's from Billy Bergin's "Loyal to the Land: The Legendary Parker Ranch," and talks about the traditional knives and other gear used on that ranch.

Scroll down to page 104.

-- Mark
 
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The SF writer Poul Anderson wrote an essay on atomic theory.

It was written as though English had never been invaded by non-Germanic words. Anderson called it:
Uncleftish Beholding
<snip>
Soothly we live in mighty years!

I had not sen this before - most excellent reading!
 
We found the camera, here's my new (well new to me) cottage. The loch has trout in it :)

 
Interessting discoussion about the accent and language from The Island. ;)

As I don´t understand many of that what Paul was writting in post #7386 it seems to be same like here in Germany, and propably on many other places in the world. When I use to travel from my location to Munich (120 km) or 100 km in the other direction I don´t understand the people there and they don´t understand me - at least when speaking in my original dialect without any clearance to make it more understandable to others. Sometimes when I write an SMS with my wif on my cellphone I use to write in our dialect. Sometimes we know what the other one wants, and sometimes not ;)

Yes Andi, I think it is the same everywhere :) :thumbup:

The accents of the British isles are many and varied.
I think "buddy" or "butty" is from the coal mines of Wales. It refers to your work mate in a pair of miners.
Not to be confused with a "chip butty" which is a sandwich made of bread butter and chips(fries)YUM:)

In some regions the difference in accent can be quite a hurdle .
My dad worked at the Raleigh (bicycles and toys) in Nottingham in the late 50s and the 60s.
He tells the tale of the men from the outlying locality of Cotgrave who came in during the night to load bicycles into crates for shipment by train Scotland the next day.
Dad and his mates whose own accents were fairly thick overheard the Cotgrave men saying "put em in tight n narrer" .They deciphered this as the manner in which the bikes should be packed into the crates -tight and narrow-
At some point some one asked them what they meant.
Turns out they were referring to the Express train to Scotland -The Tartan Arrow.
:rolleyes:
Cotgrave is 16 miles from Nottingham City.
Hillbilly ratingr-8/10 - 1960 stats

Great story Meako, hilarious! :D :thumbup:

Interestingly the language which most closely resembles English is Frisian.

Really? I've got a mate who's Frisian, but I've never heard him speak it - despite my telling everybody we both know that he stays up nights singing Frisian nationalist songs, the words of which I then make up! ;) :D

I am amused by accents, as well.
When my family moved from Pennsylvania to Texas, I was 12 years old. My mother would bring me with her to the hardware store, etc. to translate. Just like the immigrants of my grandparents generation, children pick up languages faster than adults. Everyone sounded to her like Boomhower from "King of the Hill".

LOL! Yes, it's true r8shell :thumbup:

We found the camera, here's my new (well new to me) cottage. The loch has trout in it :)


Wow, looks great Paul! :thumbup: Hope you'll be very happy there my friend :)

I was over in Sheffield today, and saw a book in the 'local interest' section of a bookshop, an autobiography written by some Sheffield feller, entitled Get Thi Nek Weshed! :D
 
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