12 May 2013 10:17 AM

No matter where we go, in the world, language can only work if the listener can understand what is being said.  Sometimes, dialect can cause confused ambiguity but what would happen if the speaker could not be understood because of the vocabulary being used?

To write the following extract, I have gone from A to Z and coupled the words, from a view point of a woman who has been hurt, by her man, and who has said certain things to here that she is no longer going to tolerate. 

It may not be to every body’s taste, when reading, but it does illustrate how language can and does change all the time.

Personally, I would prefer to use common everyday vocabulary but there have been times, in my life, when I have felt the need to use some of the words in the piece below. 

I should add that it is just a bit of fun, there is no truth in it, and it should not be taken seriously.

By for now.

The autocratic lady looked in the mirror and formed a callipygian opinion of what she thought may be cacoethes as she went into an involuntary cachinnation after her release from cagamosis.

She was determined that there would be no more dystopian ways for her and was intent to defenestrate with the old ways in her life.

When all her effusive taunts had gone she was going to be an egalitarian so that she would never be hurt again.  She knew the only way forward, at long last, was to stop gangoozeling and, if necessary become a gowpen if she had to.

Her inaniloquence, trying to keep on the right side of everybody, would stop from this moment on and, if she was not going to be listened to, she no longer reasoned why, if she thought it might help, that she may be averse to some form of lalochezia but not become addictive to mahedicent inclanations.

As she saw it, her mulligrub days, not of her own making, were a thing of the past and no maritodespotism would ever come into her life again. 

Her man, when he wanted to make an infuriating point, would use nidorosity almost inches away from her face and, at the same time, keeping her so poor that she finished up being a nelipot.

If a man came into her life again he would have to be a paramour of the highest order and with no paroxysm or a philosophunculist and hopefully not a pyknie in stature.

The new man in her life would have no rencumbentibusnes about him or have any kind of stentorian sharpness about him and there would defiantly be no sphallolalia tolerated.

He could have sciapodus and steatopygie, within reason, but ultracrepidation would be detected within milliseconds of him opening his mouth and witzelsucht would be frouned upon too.

No, the only way forward, for her, if she was going to be involved with a man again, he would have to have zeitgeist if nothing else.       

View Comments (1)

9 May 2013 1:23 PM

First of all, I would like to thank Deva for her good advice and tell her that I did stand up for myself and, at the moment, all is well.  I did not remonstrate with my tutor but reminded him that I had been overlooked.

This week, in class, it was a whole different story. I was given another lesson to do and because I had understood and undertaken to do the task while I was in class, the teacher said that I may be a 'natural.' Thinking things through, until now, the tutor may have thought that I was a 'ringer' but the truth is that I seem to be picking up the information much quicker than I or he thought possible. 

As for the 'youtube' video, that is a long way off but not an impossibility and I may give it a go if only to show people, who are maturing, that they too can follow their dream now that they have time on their hands. 

All we need is the support, like I have been getting from Deva, and our health but I am told if we want to try and keep our selves young at heart, what better way than trying to learn something new. 

Having said that, any new learning project, I now undertake, is viewed in this way. 
Learning something new, where we are taken out of our learning zone, is like building a pyramid.  At the bottom of the pyramid, there is lots of foundation work to do and nothing seems, at first, to make any sense. As we climb up the pyramid, the base begins to get smaller and fewer blocks need to be put down.  Less and less hard work is needed, until the apex is within reach and then, sometimes without knowing it, we arrive at the place we have been struggling to go to.   
Now to my blog. 

For the first 'bank holiday' in years, the weather was glorious and people were out and about enjoying the weather to the full. The following day, with the weather on the turn, for it kept changing from beautiful to dull, I was able to have the back door wide open, looking out on the garden, until dusk and, to my surprise, before it became dark, a medium sized Hedgehog came out of its hiding to feed on some of the bird seeds I had put down for it to snaffle up.

I have learned that Hedgehogs, once called Hogs, used to live in woods and forests.  When farming came, many of the forests were cleared for crop cultivation and for rearing sheep-that is another story and one that would take some to tell-the land was eventually cleared and the hogs had nowhere to go.

Eventually, a system of land sharing was found to be the best way of utilising the land and instead of building walls and erecting fence work-which was a costly affair-hedges were planted from, I suspect, anything that would grow from a cutting and, when established, the shrubs would keep out unwanted animals and thieves-Pirracantha (not sure of the spelling) and Holly were among the shrubs used. Holly, although a slow grower, was thought to fend off undesirable spirits. 

When the hedges became established, and there were miles of them, the Hogs came out of the remaining wooded areas and undertook to live in the hedges and that is how the hogs got their names. 

On Tuesday evening, while my wife was out, at one of her women's charity meetings, and while the house was quiet, I was able to put some time into another drawing I was trying to do. 

My drawing  method, at the moment, is to go out into the garden and do a quick sketch of a few Tulips, that were closing up for the night, then, when the time was right, I began to pencil in a light and first coat of pencil work.  Some artists now call this kind of pencilling in a 'wash' but I prefer to call it 'blocking in.'

When the blocking in is done, and I may have to have several sessions as I go through my method, I decide where the light is coming from and make the opposite side darker.  When I am happy with this part of the drawing, I then look at doing some of the detail work; this may take several sessions.  When that is out of the way, I re-visit the drawing and look at ways of making the flowers, that I have at the front of the drawing, look much closer than the flowers I making look as though they are at the back of the drawing.

By the time I can get the right light, in the garden, the Tulips are closing up for the night and while I have been looking at these flowers, I have-rightly or wrongly-come to the conclusion that the petals will only open and close so many times before they fall off.       

I am pleased to tell you that I have been able to draw several Tulip compositions.  The thing is, and I have to keep reminding myself of this, when the flowers are in the garden rather than me drawing them from a photo, they are in a unique state. 
Some plants falling to the strength of the rain and wind, the taller ones taking centre stage to get the most sun and others blemished from all kind of creatures biting into the weaker plants. I am now able to take all these features on board when starting and finishing a new piece but I may or may not omit some of these features.

Wednesday, with strong breezes, felt like it was autumnal weather and today, Thursday, when my wife and I should have been going on a nature walk, with like minded people, we are experiencing fifty mile an hour winds with driving cold prolonged heavy rain showers hence the reason for being able to write a blog.
Two days ago, wallowing in lovely warm air, I marvelled, as I do every year, at being able to see the Swifts and Swallows again, while sitting in the comfort of the garden's shady areas.  At one point, my 'beady eyed' wife saw a bird soaring on a thermal and, when I looked properly, I noted that the bird was a Buzzard but I could not tell what sort it was.

The problem, with extreme weather or unsettled weather patterns, over such a short time, is that no one can make any plans to do anything.  A few days ago, we purchased a Gazebo so that we could, if there were any hot summer's night, sit outside and, in my case, hopefully do some painting but the weather is so unpredictable who can tell if we are going to get the chance to use it. 

Still, worse things happen and one of them, for me at least, is that Sir Alex Ferguson-my hero-has decided to retire as the Manchester United football team manager.  A sad loss to football but I wish him well and hope that he can have a wonderful retirement. 

It was my intention to send the man a framed drawing but, if I am honest, my only framed drawing, in my view, will not come up to the exacting highs of his very famous man. Instead of sending him a drawing, I settled for a note.

I will stop there for I will have to do some more of my tutor's home work.
For reasons of 'good time management,' I have decided to send my blog out on 'Overs' and Facebook too.

By for now,

John 
   

View Comments (2)

5 May 2013 11:42 AM

Learning to play the instrument, I mentioned to you before, means that I get to practice everyday; I am sorry that I have not had time to write a blog for you all to read.

Strange things happen though because, last week, when I was in class, the teacher went to everybody but not me and, on his second round, round the class, he forgot to come to me again.  Later in the day, for I was taken aback by being left out, I phoned my teacher and made an excuse that I had forgotten the next stage in  what is expected of me. 

The man had been so engrosed, in what he had been doing, he had genuinly forgotten all about me.  'All is well that ends well, as they say, for he will hopefully have my lesson plan ready for me next week. 

By for now,

John.

View Comments (1)

21 Apr 2013 5:37 AM

Yesterday, I was able to get out into the garden and cut the lawns; I go over the grass three times and not only does this keep down the weeds, it also looks much better for the close trim but there is, as always, method in my madness for the short grass enables creatures to venture over the lawn much further than they could if the tufts were slightly longer.

This morning, Sunday-and I have been looking for some time now-the close cut grass has done the trick for there are snail trails to be seen but there are also signs that the Hedgehogs have come out of hibernation and this really pleases me for I wondered if the harsh winter had killed the hogs off.

If that was not wonderful, on its own, the Swallows are back round the housing nesting sites and House Martins are also here.  Chiffchaffs are calling too and how good it feels to see all the summer visitors coming back to us so they can nest and produce young to keep the cycle of nature going on again.  Nature never ceases to amaze me and that is probably what has kept my interest going for over forty years now.

In only four days, the garden has been transformed from looking dowdy and lame, to a feast of colour bursting through to enhance my life, boost  my self esteem and add a beauty I almost expect but had also nearly forgotten about.   

Describing the rich and beautiful colours, of all the plants that are bursting through the ground, as if in a race to rear up to the sun's light, never seems to cover the wonderful sights as the flowers twist this way and that following the sun through a half ark circle from dawn to dusk.

The light, as it falls on the plants, seems to take up an ever changing beauty and, for me, when the sun is low in the sky, before it falls-once more, to brighten lives of people at the other side of our planet-it seems to glisten on the yellow and red petals of the Daffodils and Tulips. How blessed I feel to be able to see them and also take in their scented pulsating smells. 

I understand about plants that are formed from a bulb, coming up quicker due to being able to use up last year's energy, stored up in the bulb, but I do not understand how we, as humans, are able to interact with the smells and aromas that enhance our senses as we breath in the flower's sent wafting on the breeze or in the still air of a 'warm barmy summer's night.'

Yet another topic to learn about! 

This blog can be read of Facebook and overfifties.com

By for now,

John.

View Comments (2)

17 Apr 2013 2:09 AM

Last week, my son decided he wanted to purchase a new 'midi Hi-Fi system,' due to the one he purchased, a few years ago, no longer functioning as it should.  I was the taxi but instead of unpacking the equipment, once home, my son left the kit in the box unopened.  After four days, of the box not being looked into, I asked what was wrong.  The new kit, costing three times more than the old one, was far inferior to the music centre he was replacing, after a discussion; the 'dad taxi man' winged his way back to the shop to take the equipment back.

The next morning, I turned on our old and trusted lightweight electric kettle, and, yes you have guessed it, it would not work.  We have to go lightweight these days, due to not being able to pick up anything that is heavy, so the plastic kettles have become favourable to the heavier mettle ones we used to use. 

As soon as it was possible, and after discussions on what kind of kettle we should not get, we decided on purchasing the brand name of the old kettle; cannot go wrong we thought. 

We boiled the kettle out a few times, in case there was any 'newness taste,' and boiled our first brew.  The tea was awful for there was a chemical trait to the taste.

More boiling, an overnight soak in bicarbonate of soda, and a couple more boilings just to make sure and then came another tea tasting.  The tea was undrinkable. 

Dad's DIY was brought into play and I concluded that, with a little bit of modification, to the Hi Fi and the kettle, I may be able to win through and maybe get a few extra Yorkshire Puddings with my Sunday lunch or at least be treated to lashings of thick gravy.  I have to say that the Yorkshire Puddings and the extra gravy went down a treat.

Last Sunday, while trying to write my 'blog,' my infuriated wife came to my side.  I could see she was upset and quietly asked what the problem was.  The new washing machine, much easier to use than the old one that had suddenly given up on us after a good few years of being used every day, was replaced in September and would no longer work. The company we purchased the machine from, a company we have dealt with for years, had since gone into liquidation but, just as a trial, my wife phoned a number.  Half an hour later, my wife was still on the line trying to get through, so she put the phone down. 

Sunday lunch, always followed by me doing a complete clean down in the kitchen, was delicious but marred by my wife trying to contact the washing machine company to try and get them to come and repair the washer before the guarantee ran out. 

Another half an hour's wait, on the phone, eventually lead to a very helpful young man who booked us in for a repair to be undertaken to the washing machine but we will have to wait a while before anybody can get to us. 

This Saturday morning, my wife and I went to a prearranged interview, to try and get a domestic problem sorted out, and when we reached the office we were told to go to, we had been given the wrong  information for the interview would not occur until next week; no change there then. 

While we were waiting, in the office, to get the information needed for the following week, the sun came out and it became very pleasant.  My wife suggested that we might like to go for a walk instead of going home.  I agreed and we made a diversion and finished up at a local nature reserve. 

Kestrels, sometimes called 'wind hover,' were standing, almost motionless, in a head wind and waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting breakfast. Skylarks were singing, a sound I have remembered ever since being a small child, and a male Reed Bunting was also in good voice. 

We walked on towards a lake area; this lake does not, at the moment, have a dammed water control on it and the water levels fluctuate alarmingly.  Never the less, Swans, Canada Geese, Mallards, Coot, Moorhens and Little Grebes (Dab Chicks) were finding the water levels to their advantage.

In a tree lined area, Blue and Long Tail Tits were actively searching for food and a pair of Yellow Hammers, unafraid of humans at this time of year, came very close to us.  Crows were in open fields and a Jay flew past us and landed on a tree branch that could not support its weight and the bird had no choice but to move on. 

Looking back on an open water formation, in a sheltered area and also a part of the site bathed in sunshine, a Swallow was scooping up water born midge type food as the aphids came to the surface and could not fly off until their wings were dry. 

Swallows always remain high on my first summer visitors list to try and see for the first time in the year.  The last time I saw a Swallow, before leaving to find food round Africa's Table Top Mountain, was last October before the first of the frosts came; I wonder if this was one of the birds I was looking at last year?  I am always amazed to see this tiny little fluttering bird return to our shores. 

While walking back to the car, a 'covey' of Partridge took to the air and a male Pheasant, now in rich and bright colours, flew off  in front of us.

The walk was pleasant, I was in good and interesting company and there was a gentle sun on our faces. 

Going back to the car, was full of interesting views, some where we were surrounded by high and steep grassy slopes, with battered and flattened dead foliage after the snow's thaw, and views with distant panoramic vistas.  One such view lead the eye to high ground where I could see that there was still lots of snow on the ground.

When the snow was at its deepest and when it was so cold that the ground was 'bell mettle' hard, the Sparrow Hawk came to visit our gardens where the heat, off the buildings, attracted small garden birds and I suspect vermin came too. 

Once back in the car and opening the vehicle's window, for the first time since the cold snap started, we sat, for a while, taking in the lovely sight diversity of the reserve.  I cannot wait until the leaves and flowers are back so that we can breath in the smells and scents from a canopy of wild flowers. 

As for the kettle, we are hoping to purchase another one-to replace then new one we threw out due to it tasking so bad-today but we are determined not to come out of the shop until we have had the chance to see if there is a lingering plastic smell in the kettle.  In the past, we have always had-until my wife's wrist frailty-used mettle kettles but, alas, this is now not an option for us.

By for now. 

John.           

View Comments (0)