Pieces produced for the Friends Of the Norfolk Dialect newsletter, The Merry Mawkin

CONTENTS

1    A few words from Sid Kipper on talking Norfolk.

2    Sid Kipper's Larn Yerself Norfolk.

3    Rare Norfolk Words - number 1 - 'Mountain'.

                                            number 2 - 'Urgent'

                                            number 3 - 'Motorway'

                                            number 4 - 'The Underground'

                                            number 5 - 'Fashion'

                                            number 6 - 'Ptarmigan'

                                            number 7 - 'Metropolitan'

                                            number 8 - 'Coypu'

                                            number 9 - 'Sheep'

4    Sid's Norfolk Capons - number 1 - Londoners

                                              number 2 - Dumplings

                                              number 3 - Blakeney

5    Sid Kipper's old Norfolk Customs and Excercise

                                               number 1 - Virgin Sacrifice

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1 - A few words from Sid Kipper on talking Norfolk.

I get to go all around the country in my line of work, and talking Norfolk can get you in a proper old muddle in foreign parts.

For an instance, I done this here interview in Yorkshire, where this bloke asked me about a particular concert what I'd done.  So I told him how before the concert there was a queue outside.  Well, he looked at me gone out.  He say did I mean there was an armed uprising?  So I say no, what was he on about?  And he say never mind that, what was I on about talking about a queue outside?  Well, we din't get it straight until I told him what a queue was.  Then he say "Oh, you mean a kew", so I say no - tha's a place in London where they grow erotic plants.

Then there's bowls.  You talk about a bowls match in Devon or Dorset or any of them Shires and they think you're talking dirty.

My old Uncle George has writ a song what help explain some of this.

When we have a do then the grass is all wet,

A thud's one divided by three;

We stand in a coup when we've something to get,

And hare's where we happen to be.

'Cos we're Norfolk Dumplings, we do different too;

Abroad's what we sail on, but what's that to you?

Anyoldhow, I shall carry on talking proper, you can rest assured.  Because like my old mother Dot always say, when the going get rum, the rum get going.  She always say that.  I wonder what it mean?

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2 - Sid Kipper's Larn yerself Norfolk

A selection of words which might confuse the unwary.

 Unwary" - not tired.

"Bare" - an alcoholic beverage, normally served in pints or half pints.

"Cuckoo" - a chocolate bedtime drink.

"Crick" - a narrow coastal inlet.

"Bore" - a form of address, thought to be an abbreviation of 'neighbour'.

"Bud" - a feathered biped.

"Pear" - to peep or look closely.

"Ton up" - a root vegetable.

"Winder" - a glassed opening in wall to admit light.

"Pitcher" - a framed likeness, often portrait or landscape.

"Gnu" - fresh; not known before.

"Sick more" - a type of deciduous tree.

"Moss could" - a system of signalling with dots and dashes.

"Hull" - to throw, or toss.

and finally

"Chairy-oh" - the Singing Postman's catch phrase.

  Pronunciation may vary around the county.

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3 - Rare Norfolk Words

Word 1 - MOUNTAIN

You don't hear the word 'mountain' much in Norfolk nowadays.  You didn't hear it much thenadays either.  That's because we don't have them in Norfolk, although there is some talk about getting some in order to keep up with the Joneses, who are Welsh and have loads of them.

A mountain is a great big load of land without no point.  Well, some of them do have points, if you want to knit picks, but there's still no point to them, if you take my meaning, so I was right in the first place.

If you can stop the mobile library, and get past Widow Hake's umbrella, you'll find it says that a mountain is "higher and steeper than a hill".  Well, that's all very well.  But it don't tell you how high or steep a hill is, so I can't see how it helps.  You might just as well say that Cyril Cockle is shorter and fatter than his father.  If you didn't know Charlie you still wouldn't know how fat and short his son is.

To get an idea of assenting a mountain imagine coming up the hill out of Cromer, past the sedentary school, and keeping on going up, just as steep, until you're hundreds of feet above Gunton Park.  You wouldn't actually do it, of course, because that'd be trespassing.  And there's no point in trespassing if there's no pheasants involved.  Anyhow, if you did, even though you wouldn't, then you'd be up a mountain.  You'd be up the creek an' all, unless you could imagine a way down again pretty quick.  Because you'd get dizzy with the height, due to a lot of Norfolk people suffering from verdigris.

They once asked this bloke why he went up a mountain, and he said; "Because it was there".  Well, you could say the same about Knapton.  Which means that people go up mountains for the same reason they go to Knapton, so it's still a mystery.

All in all I'm against Norfolk getting any mountains, because they spoil the view and block out the sunlight.  And you'd have a hell of a job on your hands getting rid of them, should you change your mind.  So I'm sorry I brought it up.

Word 2 - URGENT

Urgent is what you get when you don't do proper planning (if you don't do proper planing then what you get is splinters in your bum).  The reason we don't hear a lot about urgent in Norfolk is if we don't do proper planning we just forget about the whole thing altogether.  Then we get on with not properly planning the next thing.  Then we forget about that, and so on, until we decide none of the things was really important in the first place, so there's no harm done.

The thing to remember is if someone say to you that something is urgent, the proper thing to say back is "Who for?".  Unless you're posh, and then the proper thing to say is "For whom?".  Then again, if you are posh, I say "What are you doing reading this?".

A bloke from Yorkshire once said to me "You're a funny lot down in Norfolk".  Well, I took that as a compliment.  But he told me this story anyway:

He was opening a depot in Norfolk, and he'd come to sort it all out, 'cos he thought he knew best.  Well, they needed some materials quick, so he rang up the local suppliers and said it was urgent.  They didn't seem all that impressed.  So he shouted at them, and demanded they get the stuff there first thing on Monday morning.  Well they said that'd be difficult, and they couldn't guarantee nothing, and so on like that.  So the Yorkshire bloke shouted some more, but they wouldn't budge.  So he put the phone down, and asked his local manager whatever they were going to do?  And the manager said he should ring back and say sorry.  So he did.  He said he was sorry he'd shouted, and he understood they couldn't guarantee delivery.  So the supplier replied not to fret - it'd be there first thing Monday morning!

You see, it's like my work with the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds.  We're hoping to open a Bird Reverse in North Norfolk, where you'll be able to go for a bit of peace and quiet (and possible a quiet piece, but that's you're own affair.  And hers, I suppose).  Anyhow, the point is we're asking people to leave us some money in their wills.  Well, if we then went and said it was urgent, they might take that a bit funny.  So what we do is say no more about it, and just hope they don't hang about too long.  That's the Norfolk way.

You know what they say.  You don't?  Well I've heard them, and I think they say - 'more haste, less peed'.  And, to be Frank, I'd rather get more peed any-old day.

Word 3 - MOTORWAY

Being a national megostar I know all about motorways due to touring about.  A motorway is a road where you can have three motors all going along the same way, side by side. Now, you're probably wondering why anyone would want to do that, and the answer is they don't. They all want to be the one in front. So it's more like the speedway than three team ploughing, really.

The idea of motorways is so you can get where you want to go quicker, but that's foetally flawed, because it only work if you want to go to London, or Birmingham, or somewhere like that. Well, of course no-one want to go to them, so what people do is rush to be the first to get to the traffic jam. They have these on motorways all the time, where people all go along and park up on the road, just to be together. That's how friendly people are. Sometimes they sit there for hours. They don't actually get out of their cars, because that would be too familiar, but they must like being together like that or they wouldn't keep doing it. Of course, we had them in Norfolk first. They used to have them regular at Lynn on a Saturday, but that went out of fashion due to people not being able to get home from Swaffham market. When you've had enough of the jam you can go to a motorway service station. Now, I don't know why they call them that, because there's no service, and there's no trains. I reckon they come about for a bet. I reckon someone said "I bet you I can get people to pay double for rotten food". So they opened a motorway service station, and they won the bet straight off. So the other person said "Alright - double or quits, I bet I can get them to pay treble". Well, to cut a tall story short, the whole thing got carried away, and now people are paying about five or six times the proper amount, and there's no sign of it stopping. So I just park up and use the toilets. I would buy a paper, because that's the only thing they can't overcharge you for, only by the time I get there the North Norfolk News and Agitator have always sold out, so I don't bother.

My favourite motorway is the M25. Of course, people in London think the M25 is there for them, but actually it's there for the rest of us. Because it mean that wherever you're going in the country you can always avoid going to London, which is fine by me. It mean I don't never have to pay the contagion charge.

So should we have a motorway in Norfolk? Well, now, whatever would we want one for?  We're already where we want to be, aren't we?

Word 4 - THE UNDERGROUND

A lot of people say the reason no-one talks about the underground in Norfolk is due to it being in London.  But what do they know?  The real reason is some other people would be very red in the face.

Because Norfolk was actually the first place ever to think of having the underground.  You see many years ago they reckoned they could join up important places what sounded a bit alike.  Like Wroxham and Rockland, and Hickling and Blickling.  That way when foreigners got lost and went to the wrong one, they could put them on the underground, get shot of them, and charge them for it into the bargain.

So first off they thought they'd better build some stations.  So they started digging these great old holes to put them in, so they could have the platforms, and refreshments, and Gents lavatory closed, and duty-free, and the like.

Well, I don't have to tell you what happened next.  Not if I don't want to I don't.  I'm only doing this voluntary.  Well, alright - what happened next was all the holes filled up with water, which I could have told them, only they never asked, due to me not being born.  And the upshoot of that was that's how we got the Norfolk Broads.  You've only got to see where they are:  Wroxham, Rockland, Hickling, and so on.  Alright, I know Blickling Lake in't strictly a Broad, but that's just because they're posh in Blickling.  Anyhow, you might just as well say the same thing about Lake Titicocoa.  And if that's not actually a Broad it's definitely abroad, and that's good enough for me.

Of course the people what come up with the idea in the first place were all red in the face, like I said.  They were also down in the dumps, which is one of them fungus infections they got from digging in all that damp.  So they decided to cover the whole thing up.  Which weren't hard, really, 'cause the water had already done that for them.  They hushed it up in the press, and decided to say no more about it.  But their antecedors are still put out about it, which is one reason why you find so many red-faced people in Norfolk.  Another one is the drink.

So there you are.  That's it, and all about it.  THAT'S why no-one talks about the underground in Norfolk.

Word 5 - FASHION

Fashion is the exact opposite of clothes.  You see, normal people want something practical, hard wearing, and ecumenical.  But fashion people prefer things that are uncomfortable, flimsy, and cost twice what they're worth.

But the thing about fashion is as soon as it's in, it's already on the way out.  So in Norfolk we generally ignore it and hope it'll go away.  Anyhow, everything come into fashion sooner or later, so you might just as well wear what you want, and wait for it to come round.

Not that I don't know nothing about fashion.  I learned in the 1960s, when I worked with my uncle George.  We used to go round the markets flogging stuff.  He writ about in his autobiology, 'A Mandatory Life':

"In the bigger places, like Cromer, and Holt, there were a few more trendy types.  And they wanted their winkle pickers, drainpipe trousers, and drapes.  Those were sort of long jackets.  Made out of curtains.  So I used to have them run up.  Lots of women had sewing machines, so I just supplied the material and the patterns.  Or, at least, a general idea.  Of course, they'd never seen the real thing.  But that didn't matter.  Nor had the people buying them.  I think we started a few fashions of our own.  Aylsham may have been the only place where they wore drainpipe trousers with one leg longer than the other.  It was just how they came out."*

Well, you can't argue with that - if only because George is currently on the run in South America.

Of course, being a mego-star, I set the trends in my little village.  Many's the time I've worn something in the Old Goat Inn and then, just a few days later, there's someone in the exact same thing.  Mind you, that's usually because mother's taken it to the jumble sale in the meantime.  But that's not the point.  In fact, I've forgotten what the point is.  So, in confusion, I'll say that what's in will be out, and what's out will be in, so you might as well just shake it all about.

* from Man Of Convictions, published by the Mousehold Press.

Word 6 - PTARMIGAN

Now this is a word you won't hear much in Norfolk due to it being obviously completely made up.  It's not a proper word at all, but a spelling mistake.  Which beggar the question what word is it a spelling mistake of?

Now I ought to know a bit about this, due to my niece Karen.  She's illegitimate, which don't mean she can't read and write.  Because she can write.  Howsomever she can't read, so she's got no idea if what she's writ is right or wrong.  Only the other week she left me a note saying 'Dear Uncul Sid, I hev gone owt, so yor dinna is in the frigid'.  So, naturally I went straight round to see Gladys Gudgeon about her eating my dinner.  But she denied all knowledge, especially carnal.  And the upshoot was I had to go home and eat mother's cooking, which I generally try to avoid due to her having learned to cook the King Alfred way, if you know what I mean - or even if you don't.  So, as Karen might have writ, the hole thing is hopless.

All of which get us no nearer to what ptarmigan might mean, and, to be Frank, I don't suppose we ever shall.  Perhaps it's something you cook, like ptatoes.  Or maybe you plant it out, like ptunias.

So what I say is let's say no more about it.  In fact I wish I'd never started on about ptarmigan at all, and that's my only grouse.

Word 7 - METROPOLITAN

The reason you don't hear this word much in Norfolk is due to no-one being certain what it mean.  For instants, I asked Cyril Cockle about it and he said he reckoned it might be a sort of ice-cream.  Which is typical, if you ask me - although to be fair I actually asked Cyril.

I also asked our vicar, the Rev 'Call-me-Derek' Bream.  He's generally known as 'Call-me' in the village, and what he don't know is definitely worth knowing.  He reckon metropolitan is all to do with Bishops, but that can't be right.  If it was all about trips to Blakeney Point then it wouldn't be rarely heard, would it?.

So what do metropolitan mean?  Well, when I was at Trunch Bored School they said if you want to understand a word you have to break it down into little bits, work them out, then put them back together, and Bob's your auntie.  So here go:

   'Met' mean met;

   'ropo' is a sort of ferry (it's short for 'roll on, p*** off');

   'lit' mean drunk;

   an 'an', in Norfolk, mean also, like in fish an chips.

So, if you go by that, metropolitan means 'also met a drunk off the ferry'.  So that's why you don't hear it much in Norfolk, due to the shortage of ferries (but not necessarily drunks).  Of course, if you go to Reedham you'll hear the word all the time, due to the ferry there.  Plus the Ferry Inn - and its customers.

So that's exactly what I'm going to do, in September, 'cos I'm appearing at the Reedham Ferry Folk Festival.  I don't mean I'm just going to turn up.  I've been invited.  And promised money.

And if I should also meet a drunk off the ferry, well, at least I'll know the word for it.

Word 8 - COYPU

Now at one time of the day people in Norfolk talked of little else but coypu, but if you was to ask a young Norfolk man or mawther what a coypu was now, they'd more than likely tell you it was what a sneaky cow done in the corner of a field.

Well, what do they know?

Some years ago coypu rampaged across the county, devouring children and terrifying old ladies.  They especially liked the Broads, which people used to think was very old.  Of course now we know the Broads was dug out by a bloke called Pete, and got filled with water in a heavy downpour.  The coypu liked to live in banks, which was alright until you wanted to get your money out.  Because then you might find they'd chewed it all up.

Obviously when they affected people with money that couldn't be allowed to go on, so the Coypu Control was invented.  Well, actually, it already existed, but up till then it had only been there to stop the coypu getting drunk and causing disturbances in Ranworth, due to the people of Ranworth being quite capable of causing their own disturbances.  But now their job was to catch the coypu, confirm they was illegal immigrants, and then send them back where they come from.  Only no-one was quite sure where that was, so a lot of them got eaten.  If you must know they were a bit like rabbit, but less hoppy.

After a bit of this there was no more coypu in Norfolk, so people stopped talking about them, because obviously people weren't interested in anything not in Norfolk.  Except London, of course, but people only talk about that to moan about it.  And so you get to where we are today, which is no coypu, but a lot of Londoners.

And they call that progress!

Word 9 - SHEEP

  The reason we don't have many sheep in Norfolk now is we found out what caused them.  You see, years ago we had loads of sheep, due to what they call the Lowland Clearances.  That was when the landlords got foreclosures, fenced off the land, and threw all the peasants off it.  Because they found that sheep kept the grass down just as well as peasants, plus you got the wool, and the sheep didn't set fire to your hayricks, or get with child by you and insist on maintenance.  Well, a lamb don't take a lot of maintaining, anyhow.

So the landlords got rich, and built great old churches to solve their consciences, and wondered why there was nobody left to go to them.  And the proof is we've still got the churches, even though the sheep have moved on.

Round our way there was another reason.  The sheep were all kept on the Ups - near Northrups and Southrups - which is the high ground.  So the breed was called the Up Ewe.  They were marvellous sheep.  They gave fine wool, lovely meat, and they were always healthy.  The only trouble with them was they were very hard to sell.  Well, you'd take an Up Ewe to market, and go up to the dealer and say "Would you like to buy a sheep?"  And he'd say "What sort is it?"  So you'd tell him.  And very often the sheep would escape in the ensuing fracas!

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4 - Sid's Norfolk Capons

No. 1 - Londoners

Now you might ask me what have Londoners got to do with Norfolk?  And I might answer don't ask me, I've got my hands full plucking this here pheasant.  But, then again, you might not ask me that, so best I tell you anyhow, to save you the bother.

You see, at one time of the day Norfolk people didn't have to concern themselves with Londoners, due to Suffolk being in the way.  But then come the war, and a whole lot of them got escalated to Norfolk because of the Germans.  Then, when the war got won, they all went back (except for 'Arry 'Addock, who still go round St Just-near-Trunch in short trousers with his gas mask.  But that's another story, what'll be available from all bad booksellers in due course).  However, by then it was too late, because by then they'd seen Norfolk and not died.  Like my great-uncle, Jimmy 'Am I Boring You' Kipper, used to sing;

How we gonna keep them down on Chalk Farm,

Now that they've seen Scratbee?

Next thing anyone knew they'd invaded Thetford and built loads of houses for what they call 'London overkill'.  And it didn't stop there.  Before you could say "Jane Russell" they were popping up so you couldn't miss them, until now they're all over the place.  Of course, most of them only come for their weak ends.  But some move in, lock, stock and barrel.  Except they don't keep no stock, and don't drink nothing out of barrels, even if they do have a lot of locks.  Not to mention burgular alarms.

What they are is economic migrants.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I've got nothing against Londoners.  And if they want to dress up as pearly kings and queens, and eat jellied eels, in the privacy of their own barn conversions that's alright with me - that's just having no taste.  But when they all gang up and start doing the hokey-cokey on the village green, well then they're interfering with local culture.  Because local culture round our way is to stay at home and do nothing.  And even if they don't mean no harm by it, they're still going to stir up bad feeling.  And the thing about bad feeling is it's a bugger to stir down again.  Next thing you know them Londoners will be wanting to turn the Old Goat Inn into a Bisto, where they can get what they call a 'cuppa chino', which I reckon must just be a fancy name for china tea anyhow.

So what's the answer?  To tell the truth, I've forgot what's the question.  But my uncle George writ a song about it:

It is well known to Norfolk folk that Londoners have rabies;

They talk a foreign language and they eat each others' babies.

They think all birds are 'sparras', and the privy is a toilet;

They reckon Norfolk's all unspoilt, so then they come and spoil it.

I reckon that says it all.  And, if it don't, I'll just add one thing - the least them foreigners could do is learn to talk proper.  FOND ought to set up a course.

No. 2 - Dumplings

People from Norfolk are called 'Dumplings', just like people from Yorkshire are called 'Puddings', and ones what come from Lancashire are called 'Hot Pots' - that is, at your own risk.  But among ourselves it's a compliment.  So I thought I'd share with all you FOND people a few dumpling things from relations of mine.

First off there's a bit from my old mother's best-seller, Dot Kipper's Book Of Handy Household Tips.  It's her recipe for Norfolk Dumplings:

"Take a generous measure of plain folk.  Mix in some sugar and spice, a pinch of salt, and something to take the rise.  Knock out any large lumps, and surround with water.  Stand in a corner and leave to prove for a thousand years."

Second off is a song from my uncle George, called 'East Side Story', which you can read elsewhere.

Third off is a point from me (and if I'm not my relation then I don't know who is.  But I am, so I do)  A dumpling is not a small dump, any more than a sapling is a small sap.  A small concert, however, may well be a concertina.   Anyhow, I'm now off to tour Cornwall, and call the people there 'Pasties'.  I'll let you know how it goes.  

No 3 - Blakeney

There's a lot of things about Blakeney.  Well, for a start off there's the church.  Because Blakeney is famous for having a religious building with twin towers.  Now, a lot of people wonder why that is, but I don't.  It always make sense to keep a spare, don't it?

Another thing about Blakeney is the sky.  They reckon artists come from far and near especially for it - although not many come from in the middle.  Personally I can't see it.  I mean, I can see the sky, obviously, given I'm out of doors and upright, but I can't see what's so special about the sky at Blakeney.  It just look like any other sky to me.  But that's artists for you.  I always say if you want to paint scenery you should get a job in a theatre.  And as there's no theatre in Blakeney they should leave Wells alone.  Anyhow, think of all the misery caused by all them artists painting all that sky.  Because, of course, when their painting get turned into a jigsaw, there'll be all that boring blue to do.

Then there's Blakeney quay, where you can still get proper Norfolk ice-cream when it's not flooded and the van's there.  Mind you, when it's not there you can't get any, so that go against it, I suppose.  And there's shops and pubs and things.

But the thing most people think of, when they think of Blakeney, is Blakeney Point.  That's where they have the naturist reserve.  And people are often surprised to find that to get to Blakeney Point you don't have to go to Blakeney.  You have to go to Morston.  Because that's where the boats sail from (when I say they're often surprised, only the really stupid ones are surprised often.  The others get over the surprise after the first few times).  But the reason is that Blakeney Point don't point at Blakeney - it points away from Blakeney.  And I done a bit of research in the mobile library, and you'll never guess what I discovered.

You see, I thought if Blakeney Point don't point at Blakeney, then what do it point at?  So I got this here map, and I drew a straight line along the Point, and kept going.  And what do you think I discovered?  Well, yes, I did discover that if you draw lines on the maps in the mobile library they get airiated and throw you off.  But before that I discovered that Blakeney Point actually points straight at Lincoln.  And that set me to thinking some more.  Because what's Lincoln famous for?  That's right - it's famous for having a religious building with twin towers!

You know, I reckon there's a lot going on they don't tell us about.

5 - SID KIPPER'S OLD NORFOLK CUSTOMS AND EXERCISE

1 - VIRGIN SACRIFICE

Now a lot of people get this all wrong.  You see, it weren't the virgin what got sacrificed.  No, what got sacrificed was their virginity.  And the virgins looked forward to it, probably because they must have been the sort of person who hadn't been able to give it away anywhere else.  So really it was just a way of making sure they was able to join in with what everyone else was doing.

This custom was done in the springtime, around May Day, which was really Maids' Day.  And being as a maid originally meant someone who hadn't, you can see the connection.  Or, if you can't, then take my word for it.  My word is my bond, although come to think of it bondage is probably a bit advanced for virgins, so forget I ever said that.

Now the sacrifice weren't actually done in public.  Well, only in Bodham that once, and that was just down to over enthusiasm.  The public bit was before and after.  The virgin would be took in a procession of all the village, led by the village band, if they had one.  If they didn't, then it followed up at the end.  Where they went to was the Manor House.  Because it was the Lord or Lady of the Manor, according to inclination, what would do the sacrificing.  It was all to do with drat de signature, so called because it all had to be signed for, to make it official.  The virgin then went in the house, leaving the rest of the village outside not knowing how things were going.  Except in St Just-near-Trunch, where the sight of undergarments hoisted up the flagpole was considered to be a good sign.  Everyone made their own amusement until, after a bit, so to speak, the person that weren't a virgin no more would come out.  Hence the term coming out.  There'd be lots of cheers, and the excuse to back to the village for a lot of drinking.  So much drinking, in fact, that it would probably be a long time before there were any more virgins to be sacrificed.

Isn't it nice to know we live in a county so rich in history?