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Maeve Russet Hawthorne 07 June 2003 19:09 chip chip and away (not choc) yes, I discovered a chewed up leftover of a buritto wrap under a nearby budding lilac and the hat..??? maybe a Richardsons' Ground Squirrel stole it for fixin's for a nest, as there was a very suspicious looking chip (munk aka RGS) hanging around the scene of the crime. SO they make and sell Saffron Bunaramas in town? there's a curry bun too.. a round, smooth goldy thing, ... anyhoo dearie, I do sigh and be sad a bit for the lost and dark ages... when salt and saffron were valued trade goods... M Maeve Russet Hawthorne 07 June 2003 19:13 o yee oyee eee hill farmer lament lawks.. is that LARKS? do tell, Tin Miners... well my folks were sheep rustlers in the wildes of Yorkshire and clogmakers.. clumping about in the barnyards muttering.. GADS !! HOW THE HELL DO WE GET OFF THIS FECKING HILL? Vile Jelly 08 June 2003 10:05
Saffron still is. We (for some unfathomable reason) make saffron rice in the
Sloop Slave Pits. You should see how much it costs for how little you get.
Definitely worth more than its weight in gold.
The mystery is not how the Cornese got their mitts on it in the olden days but
why they would use something that was so expensive for something as basic as a
currant bun.
Vile Jelly 08 June 2003 10:05
Lawks is an inoffensive, non-denominational expletive as favoured by the likes
of Enid Blyton, etc.
PS. I'd keep quiet about being descended from tykes if I were you.
PPS. And there is no way that words/pronunciations such as 'gads' and 'fecking'
would appear in the yorkie vocabulary!
Maeve Russet Hawthorne 09 June 2003 00:31 start growing marigolds or whatever the petal is that saffron is..Marigold Buns... sounds like a comedienne or a weightlifter... Maeve Russet Hawthorne 09 June 2003 00:40 what the feck is a tyke? me Mom is a SYKE from goldthorpe. syke means "boundary stream" and my suspician is that there was a Viking in the woodpile wot with the prickly Y's and K's, toodling down the road on a pillage from York..stopped off with a hill gal while the rest of the LADS boozed it up,et cetera in town... you can imagine.. taking the ladies out for some coolers, showing them their biceps and neat hand knitted socks in those funky Icelandic patterns. Vile Jelly 10 June 2003 12:15 Crocuses (croci?) actually. Not sure domestic ones will do the job. Most of the saffie supplies seem to come from the mysterious Orient. Vile Jelly 10 June 2003 12:15
A tyke, m'dear, is a person from Yorkshire (in so far as yorkies can be
described as 'persons'!)
I, myself, spent my formative years in the People's Republic of Lancashire
(the team that won the Wars of the Roses) and so am
eminently qualified to point out the manifest evils that emanate from the
wrong side of the Pennines!
Maeve Russet Hawthorne 10 June 2003 02:26 candleford to larkrise candleford to larkrise..ever heard of it? I think its a poem.. or the name of my little Victorian Still Room shop I would like to open in St. Ives... lawks and all... if I drive south to the dreaded Salt Spring Island where I can live on my dear poet friend Dereks' tahiti ketch... and stay the winter, I could have a bunch of paintings done to bring along on the planeride with the canaries in about May.. and my lovely new tent can be my summer home by the sea in the campground within bicycling distance of the town. OR I could volunteer at Iona Abbey and hang out with the wind.. or check out the hedgehog rituals on a gals farm in Wales, or.. hmmmnnn Vile Jelly 10 June 2003 12:15
So many people to do, so little time ..... etc!
Perhaps you should borrow your sprog's galleon and then you could just beetle
up and down the west coast to your heart's content.
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