Rob ‘Mule’ Hughes writes of being plagued by the flatulence of fellow concert goers. “Not a little farty” is how he describes them.
‘Fart’ was a word that was absent from our house as a child. My dad had another word for it:
Brammit.
Of course, given that it was a Gaelic word, the spelling was probably more like ‘brachmaight.’
And brachmaight was a noun, not a verb.
One did not brachmaight, one made a brachmaight.
In the Mule Hughes context, it might be used thusly:
“I saw Dysrhythmia last night.”
“How was it?”
“Not bad at all, but the people in the crowd around me were ridiculous. They issued one brachmaight after another.”
I was surprised as a child to find the word was not widely used.
“Didn’t you call them brachmaights in your house?” I asked my much older brother-in-law on one occasion.
He shook his head casually, inhaling on his cigarette as he did so.
“In our house it was just a good old-fashioned F-A-R-T.”
Sunday, July 18, 2010
7:40 am Vignette
July 9, 2010
Have been at Gabriola for six days. Today is Friday, not so good for travelling. I had thought of staying another day, but woke up at 5 am, and figured I’d get going early.
Loaded the car, shut the cottage and got the 6:30 am Gabriola ferry to Nanaimo. Only about a third full. Got to the Nanaimo side by 6:55, then set off for the Duke Point ferry to Tsawassen, arriving with a bit of time to spare before loading on for the 7:45 ferry.
It was a beautiful morning, with hotter-than-usual weather. Once on the boat I immediately went out on deck.
At the front of the vessel, just before we got going, a family of five wandered by; mother, father and three young children.
The mother and two littlest ones moved along, but the father and a boy of about six stopped at the front rail of the deck to look out at the channel between Gabriola and Protection Island, gleaming in the early morning, bright blue and topped with whitecaps.
The little boy turned to look up at the bridge.
“Dad, I can see the captain.”
“Uh huh...you gonna wave?” suggested the father.
The boy waits a bit, still looking up, as if summoning nerve. After a few seconds, as the father wanders off after the mother, he waves.
“Mom, mom!” he shouts, running after the family.
“I waved at the captain and he...she waved back!”
Have been at Gabriola for six days. Today is Friday, not so good for travelling. I had thought of staying another day, but woke up at 5 am, and figured I’d get going early.
Loaded the car, shut the cottage and got the 6:30 am Gabriola ferry to Nanaimo. Only about a third full. Got to the Nanaimo side by 6:55, then set off for the Duke Point ferry to Tsawassen, arriving with a bit of time to spare before loading on for the 7:45 ferry.
It was a beautiful morning, with hotter-than-usual weather. Once on the boat I immediately went out on deck.
At the front of the vessel, just before we got going, a family of five wandered by; mother, father and three young children.
The mother and two littlest ones moved along, but the father and a boy of about six stopped at the front rail of the deck to look out at the channel between Gabriola and Protection Island, gleaming in the early morning, bright blue and topped with whitecaps.
The little boy turned to look up at the bridge.
“Dad, I can see the captain.”
“Uh huh...you gonna wave?” suggested the father.
The boy waits a bit, still looking up, as if summoning nerve. After a few seconds, as the father wanders off after the mother, he waves.
“Mom, mom!” he shouts, running after the family.
“I waved at the captain and he...she waved back!”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)