Tuesday, July 31, 2018

08:00 Lois and I get up and go in the shower. After breakfast, I tidy up a little bit in the living room because my friend, "Magyar" Mike, is coming this morning to study Hungarian with me.

10:00 Mike rings at the door and we start our weekly "Hungarian lesson" while Lois goes for a short walk on the local football field. The grass still looks dry after the long heatwave, she says, but here and there she sees green areas thanks to the recent spell of rainy weather.

Mike and I work through the first half of Lesson 9 in our current textbook. We find out that the Hungarians do not like talking about the weather, whereas, as we know, in England, it's typically the normal topic to open a conversation up with a stranger: the Hungarians think you're a boring person if you try that approach apparently - my god, what a crazy world we live in !!!!

When we have finished, we fix our annual 1 month break from Hungarian for September - Lois and I have our Australian visitors in the second half of September: Sylvia, Lois' cousin from Melbourne, and her new partner, Rod, are going to be staying with us.

Mike is aging slowly but visibly, I think. He was a phenomenal walker until recently, and used to occupy himself leading guided walks across the Cotswold hills, but now he moves about with more and more difficulty and his voice is weaker than before. But he is about 10 years older than me, I think. Welcome to the club, Mike!

11:00 Mike has to leave, and Lois and I relax with a cup of coffee on the couch.

Sarah, our daughter in Perth, Australia, calls us on whatsapp. She sounds a little upset and anxious. She has received a letter from the Royal Bank of Scotland's fraud department: the letter asks her to call them so they can check a few suspicious purchases on her credit card.

Unfortunately, Sarah has had trouble contacting them - when she calls them, the phone goes dead a couple of seconds after she begins to hear the usual annoying background music, when they put her on hold.

She waits while we try the same thing from here, but we get the same result - damn! We try to call another of the bank's numbers and keep the two phone receivers together so Sarah can talk to them, but without success: the audio cuts out intermittently and we have to give the whole thing up.

Lois and I always feel a little nervous when it comes to Sarah and Francis's business accounts, etc. They have given a lot of banks and authorities our address as a contact point, and we receive a lot of letters on their behalf, which we have to check through. Sometimes I have to scan business letters and bank statements into the computer and send them to Sarah via email. It's all a bit annoying, also worrying to say the least.

Later, Sarah calls us again. She says she has finally contacted the bank. The suspicious purchases were actually a couple of birthday gifts Sarah had ordered online for her little twins, but she had not used this particular credit card for several months. She managed to convince them that the purchases were genuine, thank goodness. She sounds much more relaxed now, which is a relief.

13:00 We have lunch and afterwards I go to bed and take an extra-huge afternoon nap. I feel surprisingly jaded after the morning's activities: tidy-up, Hungarian lesson, Sarah's anxious call - and I feel totally washed up: yikes, what's wrong with me? Zzzzzzzzzzzz !!!!

16:00 I get up and sit down in front of my laptop. I am a member of the local U3A's "Making of English" group which is studying the development of the English language starting from its origins thousands of years ago in the Indo-European language of the Russian Steppes. We have been working through these thousands of years and have finally reached Middle English and 13th-15th centuries. The group's regular monthly meeting is taking place on Friday in the bar of the town's Everyman Theater.

Lynda, the leader of the group, has assigned a Middle English poem to each group member and during the meeting we have to take turns to read our poems aloud for the others, translate them into modern English and talk a little about the more interesting words, grammar, etc. in the poem.

Today, I look at the poems that other members have been assigned as part of my preparations for Friday's meeting.

Anthony has been assigned an interesting poem called "Blacksmiths", which contains a few references to medieval trades: "clothe-merys" (literally people who clothe mares or horses), and "brenwaterys" (literally people who "burn" water by immersing hot iron in it : ie a blacksmith).

These compound words show a different formation process than the modern one. Nowadays we would say "a water-burner" rather than "a burn-water". I discuss this topic a little with Lois, and we recall that our language still adopts this process when it comes to certain primitive traditional types of criminals: "pickpocket" (someone that steals things from people's pockets), "cut-throat" someone who cuts the throat of his victims), also "cut-purse" (a bit old-fashioned, someone who steals things from people's purses). I can think of one modern example: "scofflaw" (USA, 1924), someone who doesn't respect laws, particularly if they are hard to enforce.

When all's said and done, all this is only interesting for someone like me who "nerds out" on languages, I have to say that. I'm lucky that Lois is prepared to humour me - yikes!

I've never had an ambition to train to be a blacksmith: I'm more into office jobs, even though I suspect that men dripping with sweat can turn women on more than men with ballpoint pen ink on their fingers and ink stains on their shirt pockets, but I'm going to let that one slide.

Big Bang Theory: Amy's fantasy about Sheldon

But "horse-dresser" sounds more promising, I think, if such a career still exists. I suspect that in the middle ages it must have been relatively easy work as long as you had a well-behaved horse in your stable. A nightmare (ha ha) if not.

18:00 But back to reality. We have dinner and spend the rest of the evening listening to the radio and watching a bit of television. We hear an interesting program all about David Bowie, the late singer-songwriter.

An interesting program. We hear that Bowie actually was a bit of an alcoholic, a very nice man, also fanatically heterosexual despite his image in his younger years. I've always had a weakness for Bowie's songs since I first heard him sing on the radio before he became famous, ie when he was still using his real name of David Jones. He sang a song with a lyric that resonated with me for some reason: "Do you remember when we used to go to church on Sunday / And lie awake terrified of school on Monday."

Happy times !!!

21:00 We turn off the radio and watch a bit of television. An interesting documentary is on, all about the Vikings' first serious attack in the late 8th century against an English priory / monastery, Lindisfarne, on England's eastern coast.

English monks preferred at that time to build their monasteries by the coast, far away from cities, so that they could hide themselves away from carnal temptations. They also tended to keep large quantities of gold and silver in their monasteries (why ???). The combined result of these two factors was disastrous, no doubt about that. What self-respecting Viking could resist the temptation to kill a bunch of unarmed monks and sail away with all that loot?

In the program we see archaeologists working on a new excavation in the area. They are hoping to come across evidence of the Vikings' attack. They find some skeletons, but these date from an earlier period than the attack. When you think that the monastery was in business for centuries, it would be very fortunate to find victims of an attack that probably lasted only a few days or maybe just a few hours, but I'm going to let that one slide.

22:00 We go to bed. Tomorrow morning I have the first of two appointments with our new Romanian dentist Daria, but I try desperately not to think about this as I drift off to sleep. Yikes - zzzzzzz - yikes - zzzzzzz !!!!!

Danish translation

08:00 Lois og jeg står op og går I bad. Efter morgenmad rydder jeg lidt op i stuen, fordi min ven, ”Magyar” Mike kommer i formiddag for at studere ungarsk sammen med mig.

10:00 Mike ringer på og vi starter vores ugentlige ”ungarsktime”, mens  Lois går en kort tur på den lokale fodboldbane. Græsset ser stadig tør ud efter den lange hedebølge, siger hun, men her og der ser hun grønne områder, takket være det nylige regnvejr.

Mike og jeg arbejder igennem den første halvdel af Lektion 9 i vores nuværende lærebog.  Vi finder ud af, at ungarerne ikke kan lide at tale om vejret, mens, som vi godt ved, i England er det typisk den sædvanlige emne til at åbne en samtale med en fremmed: ungarerne mener, du er en kedelig person, hvis du prøver den tilnærmelse – du godeste, sikke en skør verden vi lever i !!!!

Da vi er færdige bestemmer vi vores årlige 1 måneds pause til september – Lois og jeg har vores australske besøgere i september månedens 2. halvdel:  Sylvia, Lois’ kusine fra Melbourne, og hendes nye partner, Rod, vil bo hos os.

Mike ældes langsomt men synligt, synes jeg. Han var en fænomenal vandrer indtil for nylig og plejede at beskæftige sig med at lede guidede vandreture over Cotswold-bakkerne, men nu bevæger han sig med mere og mere besvær, og hans stemme er svagere, end før. Men han er ca 10 år ældre, end jeg, tror jeg. Velkommen i klubben, Mike!

11:00 Mike skal af sted, og Lois og jeg slapper af med en kop kaffe i sofaen.

Sarah, vores datter i Perth, Australien, ringer til os på whatsapp. Hun lyder lidt oprevet og ængstelig. Hun har modtaget et brev fra Royal Bank of Scotlands bedrageriafdeling: brevet beder hende om, at ringer til dem, så de kan tjekke et par mistænkelige køb på hendes kreditkort.

Desværre har Sarah haft svært ved at kontakte dem – når hun ringer til dem, gør telefonforbindelsen død et par sekunder efter hun begynder at høre den sædvanlige irriterende baggrundmusik, når de sætter hende på venteposition.

Hun venter mens vi prøver det samme, men vi får samme resultatet – pokkers! Vi prøver at ringe til en anden af bankens numre, og holder de to telefonmodtagere sammen, så Sarah kan tale med dem, men uden succes: lyden bliver afbrudt af og til, og vi er nødt til at opgive det hele.

Lois og jeg føler os altid lidt nervøse, når det kommer til Sarah og Francis’ forretningskontoer osv. De har givet en masse banker og myndigheder vores adresse som kontaktpunkt, og vi modtager en masse breve på deres vegne, som vi må tjekke igennem. Nogle gange skal jeg scanne forretningsbreve og kontoudtog ind i computeren og sender dem til Sarah via email. Det hele er lidt irriterende, også bekymrende for at sige mildt!

Senere ringer Sarah til os igen. Hun siger, hun endelig har nået at kontakte banken. De mistænkelige køb var faktisk et par fødselsdaggaver Sarah havde bestillet på nettet til hendes små tvillinger, men hun havde ikke brugt dette kreditkort i flere måneder. Hun nåede at overbeviser dem, at købene var ægte, gudskelov. Hun lyder meget mere afslappet nu, hvilket er beroligende.

13:00 Vi spiser frokost og bagefter går jeg i seng og tager en ekstragigantisk eftermiddagslur. Jeg føler mig overraskende udkørt efter formiddagens gøren og laden: oprydning, ungarsktime, Sarahs ængstelig opkald – og jeg føler mig slået ud: yikes, hvad er der i vejen med mig? Zzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!

16:00 Jeg står op og sætter mig foran min bærebare. Jeg er medlem af den lokale U3A ”Making of English” gruppe, der er i gang med at studere udviklingen af det engelske sprog startende fra dets oprindelser for tusindvis af år siden i den indo-europæiske sprog af de russiske stepper. Vi har arbejdet igennem disse tusindvis af år og har nu til sidst nået til middelengelsk og det 13-15. århundrede. Gruppens regelmæssige månedlige møde finder sted på fredag i baren på byens Everyman-teater.

Lynde, gruppens leder, har tildelt enhver gruppemedlem et middelengelsk digt, og under mødet skal vi skiftes til at læse vores digt højt for de andre, oversætte det til moderne engelsk, og tale lidt om digtets mere interessante ord, gramatikken osv.

I dag kigger jeg lidt på digtene, andre medlemmer er blevet tildelt, som en del af mine forberedelser på fredags møde.

Anthony er blevet tildelt et interessant digt kaldet ”Smede”, der indeholder et par referencer til middelalderlige håndværkere: ”clothe-merys” (bogstavelig talt, en der kluder hopper eller heste), og ”brenwaterys” (bogstavelig talt, en der ’brænder’ vand ved at nedsænke varm jern i vand: dvs en smed).

Disse sammensat ord viser en anderledes formationsproces, end den moderne. Nu til dags ville vi sige ”a water-burner” snarere, end ”a burn-water”.  Jeg diskuterer dette emne lidt med Lois, og vi mindes om, at sproget stadig adopterer denne proces, når det kommer til visse primitive traditionelle krimineltyper:  ”pickpocket” (en der stjæler ting fra folks lommer), ”cut-throat” (oprindeligt en der skærer halsen over sine offer), også ”cut-purse” (lidt gammeldags! En der stæler ting fra folks punge). Jeg kan finde på ét moderne eksempel: "scofflaw" - én, der ikke respekterer lovene, især hvis de er svære at håndhæve.

Når alt kommer til alt, kun interessant for en som mig, der nørde på sprog, det må jeg nok sige. Jeg er heldig i, at Lois nøjes med at føje mig i alle mine luner – yikes!

Jeg har aldrig haft ambitioner om at uddanne mig til smed: jeg er mere til kontorjobs, selvom jeg mistænker, at mænd dryppende med sved kan tænde kvinder mere, end mænd med kuglepenblæk på fingrene og kuglepenpletter på skjortelommer, men det springer jeg over.

Amys fantasi om Sheldon

Men ”hestekluder” lyder mere lovende, synes jeg, hvis sådan en karriere stadig eksisterer. Jeg mistænker, det i midalderen må have været forholdsvis let arbejde, så længe man havde en lydig hest i sin stald. Men ellers et mareridt ha ha.

18:00 Men tilbage til virkeligheden. Vi spiser aftensmad og bruger resten af aftenen på at lytte til radio og se lidt fjernsyn.  Vi hører et interessant program, der handler om David Bowie, den for nylig afdøde sanger-sangskriver.

Et interessant program. Vi hører, at Bowie faktisk var lidt af en arbejdsnarkoman, meget sympatisk, også fanatisk heteroseksuel på trods af sit image i sine yngre år. Jeg har altid haft en svaghed for Bowies sange, siden jeg først hørte ham synge i radio, før han blev berømt, dvs da han stadig brugte sit reelt navn David Jones. Han sang en sang med en tekst, som jeg af en eller anden grund identificerede med: Do you remember when we used to go to church on Sunday / and lie awake terrified of school on Monday.

Lykkelige tider!!!

21:00 Vi slukker for radioen og ser lidt fjernsyn. De viser en interessant dokumentarfilm, der handler om vikingernes første seriøse angreb sidst i 8. århundrede mod et engelsk priorat / kloster, Lindisfarne, på Englands østlige kyst.

Engelske munke foretrak dengang at bygge deres klostre ved kysten, langt væk fra byer, så de kunne gemme sig væk fra kødelige fristelser. De havde også tendens til at holde store kvantiter af guld og sølv i deres klostre (hvorfor???). Det kombinerede resultat af disse 2 faktorer var katastrofale, ingen tvivl om det. Hvilken selvrespekterende viking kunne modstå fristelsen til at dræbe en flok ubevæbnede munke og sejle af sted med kostene?

I programmet ser vi arkæologer i gang med at arbejde på en ny udgravning i området. De håber at falde over beviser på vikingernes angreb. De finder nogle skeletter, men de daterer fra en tidligere periode, end angrebet. Når man tænker, at klosteret blev igang i flere århundreder, ville det være meget heldigt at finde offer af et angreb, der sandsynligvis varede kun et par dage, eller kun nogle timer, men det springer jeg over.

22:00 Vi går i seng. I morgen formiddag har jeg den første af to aftaler hos vores nye rumænske tandlæge Daria, men jeg prøver desperat ikke at tænke på det, mens jeg glider over i søvnene. Yikes – zzzzzzz – yikes – zzzzzzz!!!!!