Yes But not Ceilidh

Saturday morning I heard on the radio Coin Street Community Builders were holding a ceilidh in Bernie Spain Gardens on the South Bank of the River Thames. I thought absolutely brilliant. I remember they held a ceilidh about nine years ago. There was a group of Scottish drummers there, how they danced and swirled as they played their drums. Between dances they sank glasses of beer. The more beer they drank the faster they danced. The faster they danced the higher their kilts swirled. The higher the kilts swirled the more was revealed of what Scotsmen wear; or rather do not wear under their kilts. I can tell you, that day a number of old ladies lives were shortened by the increased strain on their pounding hearts. “Ay Jimmy is that your sporran and Sgian Dubh I see?”

Off Mrs YesBut and I went to the banks of the Thames. What a disappointment, it was an English Ceilidh. An English Ceilidh, there is no such thing as an English Ceilidh. Ceilidh is a Gaelic word for a Scottish or Irish informal gathering for music, dancing, song and story. Is the English language so bereft of words that it has to steal words from other languages?

Many years ago when I was working overseas, an Indian clerk told me “Ah you English are so clever, you have words for everything”. Wrong on two accounts, I’m not English, secondly the English language hasn’t got words for everything. Its always been open to take to its own words from other languages. From the time of Britain’s occupation of India, we get from Hindi: bungalow, juggernaut, shampoo, jungle. From Yiddish: bagel, glitch, nosh schmuck.
But Ceilidh is the usurping of a word too far. Why not call it an English Folk Festival? Thank goodness they didn’t use the Welsh word for a cultural festival “Eisteddfod” - they probably couldn’t spell it and certainly not pronounce it.

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YesBut it's Sunday

Have I gone deaf? No, it’s Sunday and the City streets are quiet. Commuters are in their homes, performing their Sunday rituals: sex with the wife, reading the Sunday newspapers, washing the car and then a gentle stroll to the pub for a pint, then home for lunch. Another typical English Sunday.

I drawback the bedroom curtains, dull grey day. The river Thames flows by green brown. Sunday Monday Tuesday, May June July, 2007 2008 2009, all the same for this historic river which has witnessed over a millennium the building of a city on its banks, passed by unconcerned as angry Members of Parliament have debated world events in the Palace of Westminster. Now tourist boats bob on its service where previously tramp steamers have brought goods from a far distant Empire.

Things are beginning to stir, a group of cyclists pass south over the bridge on a sponsored cycle ride - £1 may be £5 collected for charity for every bridge crossed. The walkway by the Thames is still tourist free; they are still ensconced in their Hotels and Bed & Breakfast establishments. Grease is wiped from chins dribbled there while eating their full English Breakfast of bacon, egg, sausage baked beans and to ensure their cholesterol gets a boost fried bread.

“Where shall we go?”. Too dull for a walk in Hyde Park,. The shops in Oxford Street don’t open until 11 o’clock. “How about Tate Modern or Petty Coat Lane Street market?”


May, it started so warm and sunny now it’s so dull. Let’s go back to bed.

At least one person is out and about. Click here to see more.

Sod's Law

March has felt more like May. Last Sunday people in swimming suits were sunbathing on Hampstead Heath. Mind, only the English would think 16°C was a heat wave.

But since mid February its been great to walk through the parks. The flowers have been out a month earlier than last year. People have been pursuing outdoor activities. The couple on the right were not contented with a mere sand castle. And it brought such joy to passers by. By the following day the River Thames had reclaimed its own and there was no indication the dragon had ever existed.

But all good things come to an end; the weather forecast from tomorrow is winds coming down from the Artic, resulting plummeting temperature and snow. Great we can play snow balls. Now you might detect YesBut isn’t his normal Grumpy and Farting self. True its an exercise in positive thinking. Though I don’t think its going to last long - in fact I know it isn’t going to last. Yesterday afternoon, the hot water/ central heating system sprung a leak.

A clear case of Sod’s Law: the weather has been abnormally warm for nearly two months, and when the temperature drops the central heating system breaks down. And no it cannot be a simple easy to repair leak, it’s not only under a concrete floor but also under a wall. It’s going to take two days, of pneumatic tools hammering at the floor and wall before they can even get to the pipe. We’ve been warned that we will be without heating and hot water till Thursday - something has got to go wrong, so I’m not anticipating we will be back to normal next week.

If I haven’t died of hypothermia by Wednesday, YesBut will be in a very bad mood, which might not be a bad thing - all that indignation is bound to generate internal heat.