A quick entry as I have started this blog at an unholy hour in the morning; it's 1:00 am! Still I've only got to go to work in the morning so what's the big deal? Work? I suppose that's what I'd call it. I spend all day creating Web applications in PHP and MySQL so I really should call it mucking about.
CeordieWorld! What's all that about? Well it refers to the land of my fathers, my place of birth. The land of the Geordies. Where's that? Well it's located on the North-East coast of England. A land where the inhabitants are a mish-mash of many different people. I seem to be the result of the raping and pillaging that the friendly Vikings did about a thousand years ago. I was blond as a child and as I got older it darkened to a sort of mousey, brown colour. I used to have a gingerish beard with dark bits which went a dark blond in summer. I'm 6ft 2ins and weigh 19 stones (266 lbs) and I prefer the cold. So, QED, I must be descended from Vikings. Well apart from the Celtic and Pict bits. Actually that's what we are, a mixture; or is it mongrels? When I was young we spoke a variant on English which included several words that weren't English, e.g. yelm (yeh'm) - home, sarta - afternoon, and slang words like gannin (going). Now, apart from the slang, the language is being diluted by TV and even the slang is starting to disappear. I'm pleased to say, however, that my father still calls everyone "Pet". It's a sort of term of endearment, not that he thinks everyone is a dog!
In the winter we still go to the pubs and clubs wearing our summer clothes; short sleeve shirts and trousers or shorts with the snow falling. It's a sort of tradition which you grow out of as the blood thins. People used to say we're Jocks with our brains kicked in. Who knows maybe we're the Scots that didn't get out of the way, fast enough, when the English invaded Scotland and reclaimed/claimed Northumberland as their own? Still I still only recognise the last true monach of the North, and that was Eric Bloodaxe, not the German lot that was forced upon us. But that's another story.
CeordieWorld! What's all that about? Well it refers to the land of my fathers, my place of birth. The land of the Geordies. Where's that? Well it's located on the North-East coast of England. A land where the inhabitants are a mish-mash of many different people. I seem to be the result of the raping and pillaging that the friendly Vikings did about a thousand years ago. I was blond as a child and as I got older it darkened to a sort of mousey, brown colour. I used to have a gingerish beard with dark bits which went a dark blond in summer. I'm 6ft 2ins and weigh 19 stones (266 lbs) and I prefer the cold. So, QED, I must be descended from Vikings. Well apart from the Celtic and Pict bits. Actually that's what we are, a mixture; or is it mongrels? When I was young we spoke a variant on English which included several words that weren't English, e.g. yelm (yeh'm) - home, sarta - afternoon, and slang words like gannin (going). Now, apart from the slang, the language is being diluted by TV and even the slang is starting to disappear. I'm pleased to say, however, that my father still calls everyone "Pet". It's a sort of term of endearment, not that he thinks everyone is a dog!
In the winter we still go to the pubs and clubs wearing our summer clothes; short sleeve shirts and trousers or shorts with the snow falling. It's a sort of tradition which you grow out of as the blood thins. People used to say we're Jocks with our brains kicked in. Who knows maybe we're the Scots that didn't get out of the way, fast enough, when the English invaded Scotland and reclaimed/claimed Northumberland as their own? Still I still only recognise the last true monach of the North, and that was Eric Bloodaxe, not the German lot that was forced upon us. But that's another story.
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