Maybe I should explain: ‘Stwff’ is what we Taffs (people from
Wales
– for those who don’t know what a ‘Taff’ is) say for ‘Stuff’, see?
OMG – don’t tell me I have to
explain what / where ‘Wales ’
is? “Get a bloody clue and ‘Google’ it, ffs” as some of them (you, too) may say!
Well, before you (if you haven't already) ask ‘What is
this old fart ramblin’ on about now?’ let me further explain:
I spent several hours today
pissing into the wind – as it were! Ever
done that? Not much fun, is it?
OK, I see that I now need to
further explain myself – Jeez, this is like watching a Slinky going downstairs,
innit? ['Innit' - that’s another word ‘Taffs’ say – kinda means “isn’t it” – see how easy
it to get the hang of ‘Welsh-speke’?
First off, as agreed, early
(6:15 am CDT) I phoned a friend a Wales (by now I hope you have
discovered what and where that is) to chat about something we had ‘messaged’
about the day before. Well, although he said he’d be there, he was not! So that
was a waste of time – though I did catch up with him many hours later – and
spent about 75 minutes chatting; can’t wait for the bill. Anyway, not to get
ahead of myself (I tend to do that sometimes, don’t I?) so on to project number
two.
Project number two was actually
the higher of the day’s two - in priorities - but had to take second place due
to the quirks of international time zones and US banking hours. Anyway, about
10:00 am (CDT) I went to my bank to put a few ‘shekels’ into my safe deposit
box. Well, what I really wanted to do was to knock the crap out of the cobwebs
that must have accumulated since the last time I opened it. “Hmm”, said the
‘bank-lady’, “Looks like that’s the wrong key”. As I show her my key-fob,
plainly labeled ‘Safe Deposit Box’, I says “The F-it is! Look you by ‘ere,
mun!” – more of that Welsh-speke, innit? Well, ‘square peg / round hole’, the
bloody thing was not what I thought it to be. So, after she shows me what my key should look like, off back home to find the
right key, I go.
Before I began the search
through what transpired to be the proverbial haystacks, I made that second phone
call to Wales .
Ah! A delightful voice answers – and after a few pleasantries, I ask the angel
to pass the phone to the ‘grump of the house’. Oftentimes, he is jovial, witty
and good fun; other times, when he gets on one of his soapboxes, [do NOT mention
County Councilors , please] he is like sciatica
- but squarely in the ‘you know where’. Today, he was a little
‘down-in-the-mouth’ – somewhat despondent at a seeming lack of following (a
euphemism for ‘purchasing of the fruits’) of his passion - photography. Well, I
offered to plaster links to websites of his in whatever places I could
electronically access – FB, group e-mails, this blogspot, etc. But, just to
tease you, I’ll get back to that at the end of this missive. We commiserated together over the fact that
though (allegedly – as noted by ‘hits’) many people may ‘view’ our
contributions (in blogs and websites), very few are compelled to offer comments
on the content – either favorable, or otherwise – yet the populace seems unable
to prevent itself from making a myriad of inane postings in such social media
as FaceBook and Twitter. [Casting Director’s note: Jumps off soap-box and
returns to important stwff:]
Four hours, 15 dresser drawers,
5 file cabinet drawers, 21 pockets of 3 suits and 5 jackets later – not to
mention a boat-load of cussing (by me) and several prayers (by my wife) to St
Anthony (patron saint of lost causes / items, innit?), I found the bloody key! It
was where I had cleverly hidden it some months ago – away from the eyes of anyone
who may sneak into the house to steal it. Pity I had not been so clever as to
remember where I had hidden it. “Eureka
and halle-bloody-lullya”, says I to my wife – followed by “Let’s get ourselves
a glass of wine and go the pool”. Oh yes, I admonished her that she MUST, in
future, remember where I had now hidden it [It’s in the same place as before –
surely I won’t forget twice?] The bank
was closed by now (Saturday, see?) so that project is shelved now until Monday.
Pool-flopping - accompanied by
consumption of a couple of beers - done, off we go for a curry; hot lamb biryani
for me, medium chicken tikka masala
for the ‘missus’. End to a day with
muted successes.
Oh aye – now to the
‘commercials’!
Among the ‘creations’ of my friend inWales
(no, not Jonah! He was in a WHALE!), is a website that was intended to create
and display an interest in Wales
– particularly his small part of it. That site, World Wide Welsh Community, to which I had frequently contributed, morphed into one intended to include other Celtic communities and contributions
from such peoples. But, maintenance of those sites required a little revenue for them to prevail - sadly they did not, and so they 'are no more'. They had included postings by my photographer (and ‘jack of many other
trades’) friend about an annual cultural event in Wales that concluded yesterday. It is
called an Eisteddfod. [Google it, mun!] Anyway, here is a link to his blogspot
about that cultural delight Llanelli Eisteddfod. There are also photos from that event in his
photography website – - Alan Evans Photography. I
have three words of advice: ‘Buy his stwff!’ – I want him to be happy again –
for the angel in his house!
Among the ‘creations’ of my friend in
One funny guy loaded with curry and beer entering a pool in his dotage! That must be a recipe for disaster. Mind you, he has good taste when it comes to the ladies.
ReplyDeleteI have to agree, with all that this sage has to say! Anyone who could induce me to eat cockles and laverbread (two renowned Welsh delicacies) - after avoiding them for 70 years - has to have something going for him.
ReplyDeleteThe aforementioned sage of Pontyates wants me to add his blogs to the 'List of blogs I read' - when I figure out how to do that, I will. I tried pasting the URL (the Llanelli Eisteddfod one), but it wouldn't work. Maybe the sage will tell me (in a private FB message - or in a bottle tossed into Loughor Estuary) just how to do it.
ReplyDelete