Marty

And so clo has moved us on to page 1,979... 1979 was the year I finally visited Ireland for the very first time. Although dad had brought two of my older siblings over when I was child, I'd never been fortunate enough to get over myself with him, before mam and dad separated in 1957. I had planned to travel over with an old university acquaintance in the summer of 1972: plans we first started making in late 1971. Unfortunately "Bloody Sunday" took place in Derry (aka: Londonderry) on January 30th 1972, and things got even more tense in Northern Ireland. The friend with whom I was planning to travel dropped out of the trip, saying she felt Ireland was no longer a safe place to travel to, even though we were planning to travel no closer than about 40 miles from the Border. I couldn't blame her, though, as Northern Ireland at the time was the first item on just about every news bulletin in England. As I had very little money at the time, having only just started working, I was forced to cancel as well.

Chronologically speaking, that is indeed a true fact. And you'll never find me disputing the indisputable.

It must be true. I read about it on the interwebs. https://www.theguardian.com/science/2020/dec/16/whats-that-skip-researchers-kangaroos-communicate-talk-people

Not as much as I love....

Hi, Drew! Sorry, didn't spot you wander in at first, there. How's life in the second largest state in the Union? All's good, I trust...

True enough... But I have plenty of "someones" in my life. Far be it from me to be so exclusive as to just pick one of them.

I'll be safe enough not knowing exactly where you live... Just as long as I know where I live! Wouldn't do for me to walk into some stranger's house by mistake one night...

Jayzus, woman! I find it hard enough myself to live with me! Don't reckon you'd find anyone else who'd be willing to put up with what I have to put up with every day...

To misquote Oscar Wilde: We're all in the gutter, but at least I'm looking up at the stars.

Oh? Dunno why, but for some reason I always thought you were a Californicator...

I'm just wondering where else you might wear them...

Greetings, young Albert! Hope all's well in Albertsville.

And I wonder just where Tolkien got the inspiration for the name of his fictional Shire...

It would have been my front door, pervert! -------------------------------------------------- Actually it turns out he did try contacting me... The mobile phone signal in my house is atrocious at times. Especially in bad weather... But he had tried ringing. Once around 8:15, and then again about 10 minutes after I'd left him a voicemail around 10:30. Not sure why my phone has only just decided to notify me of two missed voice calls. Also not sure why the tradesman didn't leave voice messages each time. My phone finally informed me there were two voice messages, both were from him, but each time he just hung up without speaking. Fortunately, he actually picked up on a call I made to him 10 minutes or so back. He has put the job off till tomorrow, due to the fact that it was raining heavily this morning. Makes sense in a way, as it was an external door that needs replacing, including the doorframe which will possibly need sealing with mortar (the heavy rain may have affected that). Fingers crossed tomorrow is a bit better weather. At least the forecast (if it is to be trusted) is only suggesting a bit of light rain in the afternoon...

"I'll be with you early," he said. "How early?" I asked. "Probably before 8." "Okay," I replied. "I'll leave the key in the shop next door. Just in case I'm still in bed and don't hear you knocking." So it's now almost 11:30, and still no sign of him. And he's not even answering his phone... Tradesmen..!

Still talking of shires (and counties) here's some more useless trivia to bore you all... There's even bits for Bucket and Gary in it. But there's nothing about New Zealand shires....

Schlaf gut, Bruder!

Except Voldemort...

It didn't actually sound like a request to me... more like a demand. Or even a royal decree...

No, silly! Underhill is just a village. One of 33 villages and towns in The Shire. http://tolkiengateway.net/wiki/Category:Cities,_towns_and_villages_of_the_Shire

My builder rang me to say that he's going to hang my new back door tomorrow. I'll maybe take a few photographs. Who knows, one of them might be suitable for my weekly B&W photo challenge.

You could always ask them to buy you a pair of earmuffs for Christmas...

Silvertongue...

wouldn't get too upset if I were you, ma Sherye. (Not that it's a competition, but I think it may actually have been me that started it..)

Interestingly, The Shire in Middle-Earth is divided into four parts, each called a Farthing. The word farthing derives from the Old English word fēorðing, from fēorða, meaning "a fourth" (or a quarter). At the time Tolkien wrote The Hobbit and the Lord Of The Rings, the county of Yorkshire in England was divided into three administrative areas know as Ridings (East, West, and North Ridings). The word riding is descended from late Old English þriðing or þriding as a loanword from Old Norse þriðjungr, meaning a third part. þriðing would be pronounced "thriding" which, as time went by started to be spoken as "the riding". Hence the subdivision of Yorkshire into Ridings. In early English thrid was used rather than third (and brid instead of bird). (Wow! A bit of mathematics, to possibly interest @Drew Espinosa - and bit about how the Vikings influenced parts of the English language, which may interest @Timothy M...)