Heading out for a walk along the Leeds-Liverpool Canal tomorrow, and a visit to a local wildlife sanctuary, maybe even a chip butty in a canal-side pub

So I'll wish you all a very happy weekend Guardians
Just at the fag-end of the summer, when it was still warm enough to sit outside a pub, having a pint, without wearing a jacket, I was sat perusing this edition of the
Havamal, and there was a Cowboy version included. That made me think of
JohnDF
, first of all, of course, and then about knocking up a Yorkshire version!

So, I quickly jotted down a few verses

Norse wisdom for the weekend
At ivry dooar oil,
Afooar tha gus in,
Look abaht thi,
A good look abaht mind –
Fu tha never nooas
Wheear thi enemies
Might bi lurkin to do thi in.
Dun’t be unkind to a stranger.
Tha nooas type,
Standing aht in cooad,
Cus hi dun’t want be no bother,
Bring ‘im in,
And sit ‘im dahn.
Lad needs warmin’ up,
‘Is nivvered and frayzin’,
Lerr’im dry aht bi fire,
Is cum a long way,
Oar ‘ills,
An must bi worn aht.
Lad needs t’wet is lips,
Some dry clooathes,
an’ kindness,
Listen to warri ‘as to say,
An’ lerrim join in crack,
Wi thi awl.
A bloke needs to know worris doin’
Afooar he gus a wanderin’,
Life’s easier at hooam,
But tha’ll have nowt to tell abaht,
If tha nivver gooas anywe’ar.
S’gi lad a brekk.
Nobody likes a clever clogs,
Tha’ cun bi bright,
An not show off.
Mind thi manners,
‘an tha’ll be awreight,
Wherever tha guz.
Don’t bi blowin’
Thi oan trump’it.
When tha’s sat suppin’,
Keep thi lug’oils oppen’
An’ thi gob shut,
An tha’ll lern mooar.
If tha meks good pals,
An’wins respect,
Tha’ll be ‘appy within thissen.
But tha’ never nooas,
Wheear tha really stands
Wi’ others.
Tha’ll not tek nowt better,
On’t rooad,
Than wot tha’s gor’ upstairs.
It’s better than brass
In thi pocket,
‘Specially when tha’s skint.
Tha’ll not tek nowt better wi’ thi,
Than what tha’s got,
Between thi lug-oils,
An’ tha can tek nowt
Worse wi’ thi
Than too much ale.
Boozin’ fer boozin’s sek
Is daft,
An nowt good’ll come
Orrit.
Mooar tha sups,
Less sense tha ‘as.
A’ve bin kale-eyed
Missen,
‘An a nooar worrit’s like,
It’s as if’n thi brains o’ addled,
N tha dun’t nooar
Thi arse from thi elbooar.
A’were blathered,
Blathered t’buggery,
Med a rite arse o’ missen.
Best kind o’ do,
Is when tha guz ooam,
Wi thi wits still abaht thi.