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Byhecklectic / 7 March 2014

A lot o’ folk say ‘ah wa’ 1st lass in ar fam’ly to guh t’university’….well, Ah wa’ 1st lass in ar fam’ly to guh rahnd tarn… quite an experience! Very educational.

Me poor grandma told me stories abaht blackleadin’ t’aga an’ tekkin broth ‘n’ ash to her brothers in t’in glass factory; in fact, her brother made her a glass pig that I always said ‘it’s nowt like a pig!’… now I realise it wa’ a pig to her ‘n’ she kept it next to the brass Great War medal, the validation of giving his life.. (him bein’ one o’ t’Barnsley Pals)… ‘n’ growin’ up in mining village ah know all abaht t’shaft (that’s pit shaft for you Southerners not as in ‘being a shafter’ or Issac Hayes ‘Shaft’) an’ ah know abaht pit ponies bein’ sacrificed ‘n’ t’sadness o’ bairns dahn t’mines ‘n’ that Strike o’ 1984 but we won’t get maudlin’…

Anyway, as ah sed, ah wa’ fust lass in ar fam’ly to guh rahnd tarn.

We’d meet up in t’bus station, a few on us, then guh t’various pubs ‘n’ meet tutha lasses along t’way….we’d discuss last weeks’ fiascos o’gerrin hooume ‘n’ how smart we all looked, coz that wa’ important, dahn ‘ere, I live aht a charity shops but up theer!!  No chance!  Coul’n’t wear same thing two week running!

We’d also talk abaht t’blokes we wa’ seeing…..who we’d bump into on t’way rahnd to mebbe White Hart, No.7, Corner Pin… n’ God help ‘em if they wer’ talking to anutha lass!!  ‘N’ God help us if we wer’...

Well, we’d hev hafe a lager in ev’ry pub but walking up ‘n’ dahn stopped us getting’ too kalied!!

Well, we’d get last bus hooume ‘n’ ha’e a laff wi’ t’utha revellers... coz ther’ wer’ no taxis… ah’ve known me wait two hours… they wa’ sparse… dunt know if they wer’ allowed to hev moore than two taxis or Barnsley folk just aren’t enterprising!

Which reminds me, if on a Friday we went t’Drum, a disco in t’next village, we’d guh to Ronnie’s Cars for a taxi… but ther’ wer’ only him!  He’d be aht on a job ‘n’ his wife’d answer doour in her dressing gown ‘n’ curlers ‘n’ a load on us’d be sat waitin’ in their front room while she watched t’tele!!!  That woman deserves a medal!!

Ah’ve gorra poem though, inspired by me mate Anita who’s one o’ them hedonists pays for it t’next day… mindst you, dunt be thinkin’ she’s a Barnsley lass!  She’s nor even Yorkshire!!  She’s from Bolton in Lancs wi’ a bit o’ Romford!!

Well moore moorland myst’ries next time.

T’Anita in Perpetua

A’ ter cumin’ aht t’neet Anita?
A’ ter cumin’ aht t’neet or what?
A’ ter gunna dance t’neet Anita?
A’ ter gunna dance t’neet or what?
A’ ter gunna hev a drink t’neet Anita?
A’ ter gunna hev a drink t’neet or what?
A’ ter gunna hev sum drugs t’neet Anita?
A’ ter gunna hev sum drugs t’neet or what?
A’ ter gunna pull that Pete t’neet Anita?
A’ ter gunna pull that Pete t’neet or what?

Will thy hev an ‘ango’er tomorrah Anita?
Will thy hev an ‘ango’er tomorrah or what?
Will thah be belchin’ ‘n’ fartin’ coughin’ ‘n’ rotin’
Hockin’ ‘n’ hewin’ vomitin’ ‘n’ chokin’
Ere a neet o’ dancin’ ‘n’ drinkin’, smowkin’ ‘n’ totin’

Or will thah stay in t’neet Anita – or what?

Will thah cuddle up t’ Pete t’neet Anita?
Will thah cuddle that sweet Pete t’neet or what?
Or will it bih that Paul thah met last week Anita?
Will it bih that Paul or Pete t’neet or what?
Will thah mek thih mind up abaht t’neet Anita?
Coz ah dunt wanna be a wallflower ageean t’neet Anita!
‘n’ if thah guz off wi’ Pete t’neet Anita
I’ll fly off wi’ Paul t’neet Anita
Only let me know befoor t’neet Anita
Coz ah need t’know whither to dress up hot or what!

(perpetua font Anita in perpetual fun)