Keeping It In The Family?

No, not skeletons in the cupboard, but a delightful propensity to burst forth in rhyme! The story behind the example I intend to share with you today, goes thus...

 My Bro and I have nicknames for each other, which date back to our teenage years - ''Herb' and 'Pud', respectively, if you really want to know, but that would be another story...

So, in a recent spate of emails, we've been writing a little 'Franglais' to each other, a happy mix of English and not-quite-French , as if you couldn't guess. As luck would have it, he signed one of his missives 'Herbergage', which I chose to alter to 'Herbgarbage', in view of the erudite conversation we'd been holding. (?!)

This morning, in true brotherly fashion, back came this poetic gem:-

 Herbgarbage? HERBGARBAGE?! I suppose you think that's funny!


O weilawei! O lackaday!
Myne owne sustre thenketh
Her broder hys nam to mock.


Nu, Adam hys rib! Unnatured sib!
I'll mak thine een to blenketh!
I'll give thi sic a knock!


Myne nam tis HERBERGAGE I tell thi.
Mi wyf's a witch -- ond nu shee'll spell thi!


X


PS: Yes, I know 'blenketh' is third person singular, not infinitive. I gave up authenticity for the sake of the rhyme. So sue me. Herb

 How could I not share that with Blogland in general? Perhaps if you read this, you may like to comment in your own version of Olde English - or Anye Othere Olde Tongue - or should that be Tong? Or even Language - or Long-age - or whatever else you choose to invent...

This May Explain...

Why Napple has not been making many notes, recently. After all the Woolly Mammoths (?) crochet projects I've worked on this year, I had such a great assortment of left over bits, that I decided to launch into creating myself a 'coat of many colours' - well, a poncho, anyway.

Having completed 80 motifs, it was decision time as to which to join to what, colourwise. I laid them out in a poncho shape on my carpet, then row by row, picked them up to edge with white and join together. Here's the proof of the pudding. Sorry, poncho.

There was a snag at this point. I had to buy more white yarn, as I knew the 100g  I already had wouldn't be enough...and the snag? I bought a ginormous, 500g ball. This means the remnants of it are sitting looking forlorn. How long will I be able to resist it's unspoken plea for a crochet hook to spin its dreams into reality? Will I never learn?And will I ever reach the bottom of my yarn stash? Perhaps I should keep it under lock and key, out of sight and hopefully, out of mind. For a while, at least!

The luscious fringe, by the way, took the best part of a whole day and a half to cut and tie, so I thought it deserved a photo all its own...
And my next blog post, I promise, will be a yarn far removed from this kind!