My Grampa, whom I am told I always called “Man”, was in love with my Nana for forty years, but I never quite understood some of his sayings that Nana passed down to me.
“Nae thankye. I ‘ve had an elegant sufficiency. I didn’t come to be-grizzle me self.”
And then there is:
“I ‘ll hae nay more at this time, thankye kindly Nancy”. It sounds better out loud, if you are familiar with Ulster-Scot dialect of Northern Ireland.
Apparently, table manners, particularly as a guest, were of considerable import in first third of the last Century.
But then there is this particular gem of affection between a husband and wife, as the husband departs – I imagine, going off to the office.
“Ye hae fergot.”
“What hae I forgot?”
Ye hae forgot ta’ give me a kiss.”
“A kiss?! An’ what guid would tha’ dae ya?”
“It’ll dae me a heap a guid”
You have to put all this in context. My wife’s stories of her family involve a lot of visual; my memories of family involve a lot of verbal. When my late mother was alive, she used to tell us stories of what each of her animals – a Palomino horse, a Paint horse (Cherokee), her burro, George (after literary George Borrow), her two dogs and two cats were up to on a weekly basis. And the neighbor’s dog who trekked over her hill for a snack each morning. Stories complete with conversations – the animals as she “imagined” them saying.
Since this past December when either my wife or I occasionally discuss the dogs, with a family member, family friend or church acquaintances we are looking to know better, we may describe, or we “respond” for Comet in an “Irish” ( or more accurately -somewhat- indeterminate scottish or irish) accent. Dexter, somehow always earns a Tom Hanks- inspired “Forrest Gump” voice.
With my last several years accumulating the stories and the acquaintance of extended family, maternal relatives of Ulster, English, and Cajun origins, I am probably safe with a Southern dialect for Dexter. As long as I am blogging, I have an outlet for the “voices” in my imagination. Mom had lots of interesting stories about her life in the Arizona desert, particularly the adventures of her furry pals. I find myself these days also talking to the dogs in the same manner.
Well my spouse has already gone to bed. “Ye hae fergot….”
“Um, mm, wa, nuff, hmmmph”
Apparently, that is her unconscious mind saying, “Shut up. Get in bed, and don’t take all the pillows!”
Comet and Dexter are already in their dog beds asleep. I don’t know what they are thinking.
It's a Dog's Life 