Willow wilson

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Posts posted by Willow wilson

  1. TV and radio has spread the caricatures, if you will, of various accents. Here are a few poor overused imitations I can think of which come out when certain regions are mentioned:

    Och eye the noo

    when the boo-at cuums in

    Ay ya gotta loit boyeee.

    Look you dai iznit. 

    Oo ee oo aaar

    Awite gavna

    Ay up miduck

    I once stayed in a small hotel on the south coast and the owner asked me where I was from. When I told him Nottingham his comment was ay up miduck. I usually moderate my accent when in forrun parts for the sake of clear communication but I can't remember ever using that phrase except as a conscious nod to the obligatory folklore thing. it's usually ay up yowth. My accent is as much me as my face is, although that's no oil painting. 

     

     

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  2. I've got to go with pianoman on this. Iceland (Park Tavern) is almost adjacent to the church just round the bend. Embassy tyres is about level with that cul de sac of council houses (Halstead Close) showing light color roofs where the railway tracks diverge away from that row of trees. Opposite the now Hilton hotel. According to goggly earth/maps anyway.

  3. Bad luck on Porlock, Brew. I guess it would be just as hairy going down it in anything not rigid. 

    Mrs WW's father drove a RASC 6x6 Diamond T in Italy in WW 2 with a canvas tilt behind the cab for overnight accommodation. It had a multi wheel trailer to transport the M4 tank. 

    I've seen pictures of Ts at shows all polished and shiny but I think they look better a bit scruffy. 

    From our photos the logo on F in Law's T shows a North Africa unit so I guess it was transferred urgently.

    End of ramble.

    • Like 2
  4. As Cliff Ton mentioned Rupert books.  Santa's gifts to my older sister, they seemed to get recycled to me but I liked them all the same, read and re-read over and again.  Me mam read the picture captions to me at bedtime. I didn't like the narrative at the page bottom. 

    Perhaps that stimulated my daydreamer liking for poetry, the rhyming lines tangibly attached to a physical picture and a bit of imagination in between.

  5. From Cliff Ton's photo: the big old church had a side entrance on Upper College st. It led down to a large store type of room I guess below the main hall of the church. That was a motorbike spares and accessories shop and I've an idea it was Hooleys. 

     

    Regarding the main Hooleys I remember in the late 60s the showroom packed with people ogling and touching the new Capri. Me included. Oh how I wanted one, but had to make do with a used Anglia.

     

  6. I've recently had emails and paper mail from my bank and card provider. They are "Opening access to Third Party Providers, TPPs". 

    Quote: A TPP is a 3rd party service provider that's authorised with your express agreement to access your online payment accounts to obtain and consolidate information about your finances. This may include info about accounts you hold with us and other banks and building societies. You may also give payment instructions thru a TPP. You'll be able to give permission to certain TPPs (FCA authorised) to access information and to make payments from current accounts. The payments will be treated as if authorised by the account holder. A payment cannot be stopped once authorised by a TPP.

     

    If this has been brought up elsewhere then I think it's worth repeating. It seems to me like another avenue for scammers to infiltrate.

  7. Men may come and men may go but Mablethorpe goes on for ever. (Apologies to Alfred L T)

    All your memories resonate with me too. Remember the little boating lake with hand cranked paddle boats? And the Lyric cinema; saw Calmity Jane there.

    I can half recall the stations and the ride from Nottingham. Bingham, Bottesford, "look out the window, there's Belvoir Castle, wow!", Grantham, Boston, (where the sharp curve is,) "look, there's Boston stump...now look its this side wow", Sleaford?, Willoughby, Mumby. Somewhere along there was the South 40foot drain, "look, look here, they're herons, wow". In '53 I saw a rowing boat in the middle of a field. Sutton-on-Sea, then a level crossing and finally -'raaay, Madlefort!!. Outside the station were lads with old pram chassis and trolleys and they would take all your luggage to your digs in town for a tanner. 

    The walk to the digs down High Street with.all the shops selling buckets, spades, kites, ice cream, cowboy hats, was magic. Happy memories for me and my younger brother. 

    Mablethorpe, it had its time and its place in the innocent order of things.

    We've done lots since and been many places but Mablethorpe's special.

     

     

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