Language

Language interests me, as it should when living in a country where English is not a native language, even though fairly widely understood, for a given value of 'understood'.

That's a rather different matter, though. My main interest comes in English itself, and the changes that occur over a period of time. Many are the changes from over a thousand years ago to the present time, of course. Old English needs to be learned, if anyone so desires to do, as a foreign language. The language of Chaucer can be read with the aid of a glossary and a little imagination, and the Swan of Avon needs no introduction to any educated and cultured person.

However, my current interest revolves around the changes that occur over a much shorter time. I've lived outside England for a quarter of a century now, and use my host country's language on a daily basis, visiting England about once a year or so. In that quarter of a century, I note some radical changes to my native language, some of them rather odd. For example, there is the expression, 'It's down to you', meaning that a given action, or choice of actions is left to another individual to decide upon. Fair enough, but I always say,'It's up to you', an older form of the expression. The meaning is the same, but the wording has altered. Why? When? Nobody seems to know. In fact, I am assured that it has always been that way, even from people whom I know have used the older form, and have quite obviously forgotten it. Others claim it must have come from America, but I know several Americans to whom 'down to you' is unknown.

The change is still in a process of movement, as evinced by one of my favourite authors, who uses both forms in a single piece of writing, apparently unconsciously. At least, there seems to be no shades of difference of meaning attached to them.

Can anyone shed light on this matter?

Nordic Weather

One of the nicer things about living in the far North is that winter comes early enough to make the garden look as tidy as any other in the entire country. A thick blanket of snow sees to that! Mind, it still reaches all the way up to the sky. (The garden, that is, not the snow, though sometimes I wonder about that).

Excitement

Nowadays, I live a rather dull life, but I’ve had my share of excitement.  Sometimes it seems rather as though I’ve had more than my fair share.  For example, many years ago I spent some time in East Africa.  It wasn’t a long time, but it was long enough to be chased by several highly irritable members of the rhinoceros family.  Not only that, there was the buffalo which decided that he didn’t care for a gun being waved in his direction, and encircled the hunting party to come up from behind.  An African buffalo in a bad temper, it has to be understood, makes your average elk look like a domestic pet.

It was about that time that I lived for two years in what is now known as South Yemen, in a town called Aden.  It was in that place that I climbed up the outer slopes of an ancient volcano.  There was an easier route on the inside, with steps laid down for the faint hearted, but with a sublime English disregard for authority, the party I was with took the harder way.  One of my companions developed severe heat exhaustion and had to be lifted off the top by a rescue helicopter.  The rest of us trudged wearily back, being attacked on the way by a group of local gunmen, who wanted to know why the British didn’t leave their country.  A very reasonable attitude, I always thought.  Given the opportunity, I would have been the first on the boat home.

Not long after this episode, after my return to England, I was driving by night in a second hand car bought only the day before.  Speed was something well in excess of 140 kilometres an hour when the engine stopped.  To be more exact, the engine burst wide open.  Still, to see little bits of metal glittering in the frosty moonlight for half a kilometre behind me was surely a thing of beauty.

Dare I mention the time when the British Airways flight I was in had to return to Heathrow on one engine, although it had had four perfectly good ones when we took off?  It’s really amazing how many fire engines you can sometimes see at an airport.

Then there was teaching, of which I did several years.  Now that doesn’t sound very dangerous, does it?  I mean, it’s not to be compared with Hemingway in the bull ring or skydiving.  Still, when you know that more of my ex-pupils than I care to think about ended their short criminal careers in prison, some under maximum security for offences which a family newspaper wouldn’t write about, it’s a job that certainly had its moments.

Nowadays, I take my children to places where they can practise their hobbies, and stand around in the cold for hours.  It’s dull, it’s boring, and I wouldn’t change it for a single day of my previous exciting life.

Winter

Winter comes early this far north in the world. We have had snow already, although it won't stay for a while yet. When it does, it stays for a long time. It won't be before next May until we see what colour the grass is. Yes, I know it's green - well, more of a brownish grey after the ravages of winter, but memory fails in six months.

Today is cold and clear. The sun shines without warmth on the birds clustered around the bird feeding tray. We are very fortunate in that we are surrounded by forest, not a house to be seen, and the whole area is a little paradise for wildlife, albeit somewhat cooler in nature than paradise is commonly supposed to be. I have no wish to bore with a list of the various birds that can be seen, but so far the list of different types is close to a hundred, ranging from a tiny wren to a massive sea eagle, along with a sparrow hawk or two which attempt to reduce the numbers somewhat. I must mention the blackbird though. Now you might think that one blackbird is much like any other, and so they are. This one, however, has a single white feather on the side. Could it be a coward, do you think? If so, it seems to work, as it has appeared in the garden for several years now.

There is trouble in the world, as always, but in this little part of it, there is nothing to complain about. Long may it last, and widely may it spread.

First Thoughts

To be quite honest, I have no real idea why I talked myself into writing a blog in the first place, as it seems to strike against all my dearly held values of privacy. However, never let it be said that I am unwilling to try new experiences - provided such experiences are not illegal, not immoral, and don't lead to a gross increase in weight.
Hm. It seems that blogging leads almost automatically to blabbing. Must try harder, and find something worth saying. For now, it's a lovely day, cold but sunny, and far too good to waste time like this.