Franny-Eponyms

love a good eponym! For those unfamiliar with the term, an eponym is a word derived from the name of a person such as sandwich. Most people know this was coined after the Earl of Sandwich. When I looked into the subject, I discovered a number of words that I had not recognised as eponyms.

The first is syphiliss. As a loose woman of the village, this is often at the front of my mind! The word was first used in 1483 in a love poem written by  Girolamo Fracastoro, he controversially described the disease as being “French”  This is absolute tosh! As I have contracted the disease from so many different people from all over the world! The visitors that pass through Savage weed are completely international!

The word that most surprised me was dunce, which dates all the way back to the 1570s.

 And is based on John Duns Scotus, 13th-century Scottish scholar of philosophy and theology.

John Duns was total nobhead if you had a stupid, idea or appeared outwardly thick (like John Dunns) everyone would call you a johndunny which later turned into  the insult Dunce. John was also famous for wearing a pointed hat with the letter “D” on it.

 

The person most often associated with the phrase ‘nosy parker’ is Matthew Parker, who was Archbishop of Canterbury from 1559 to 1575.

He was famous for the phrase “hiya” but also for his love of cream cakes and gossip. Mathew parker was known for exposing the secrets people had told him in confession and eventually was killed and stuffed for his Nosey Parker ways.

Children – A guide- words by Franny

Franny is our resident posh bird blogger. She also devises many of our crosswords on damagazine. She is a 59 year old lady who lives with her husband Huburt in a small village in central England called Savage Weed. unfortunately her husband fell into a coma thirty years ago on their honeymoon and now needs 23 hour care. Which is provided by their live in nurse Barbar an 81 year old volunteer nurse sent from the job centre.

I have never given birth myself. To be quite frank it would have to be the Immaculate Conception as my husband fell into a coma thirty years ago on our honeymoon just before we had the chance to seal the deal.

I did however adopt my husbands grown up child Bo bo Hatrick mainly out of duty and pity, (Bo bo Hatrick is non verbal appearance wise she is a cross between a lez dawson and a collie, with long frizzy hair).  

She Is 5 years older than me and has lived away from the family home most of her life which has been really great. At first she was at boarding school from about 1958-85, we think.  She went missing around ‘85’ on a hiking trip, we only discovered she had gone missing around ‘91’. She was  found living wild in the New Forest by some local dog walkers. She was returned to us via courier in the summer of 92 which is when I signed her up to join the army. I can’t say I have heard from Bo Bo recently but I expect the army and recent wars are keeping her busy. (the odd mothers day card would have been nice however!

I have so loved being a mother and have a lifetime of advice to give to new mums. I am running workshops in the parish in May if you would like to find out more about parenting techniques. “how to give up your kids-a guide) 6.00-6.15 Mondays in May.

I have friends with children. A common problem I hear all the time from my girlfriends with kids is that no one talks to them or about them anymore the conversations are always concerned with “baby talk”, how’s the Baby?, what’s the baby called?, is that your baby?. All these tiresome questions that are all forgetting one thing, that’s the actual parents. What ever happened to an “adult conversation” about Kate and wills, new knitting techniques or gossip about the vicar.

 I have so many girlfriends with children; I don’t want to block them out of my life as soon as they become pregnant. (Anymore)  I want to help them. Here’s my technique.

 I simply ignore the fact that they have children, I never mention it, and I ask that they never mention it to me; I want to give them the space and place to be themselves again. I won’t allow conversations about children or children or babies in my home. It’s just not fair to my friends to keep dredging up their children, making children the main focus.

I offer a place of relaxation were we can do something more nourishing like bottomless yoga, and maybe have herbal teas and foot scrubs instead.

 If you feel the same come to my explanation group Hear no Children-See no children. Every Monday in may from 6.15-6.30

Franny updates us- Words of interest

Franny is our resident posh bird blogger. She also devises many of our crosswords on damagazine. She is a 59 year old lady who lives with her husband Huburt in a small village in central England called Savage Weed. unfortunately her husband fell into a coma thirty years ago on their honeymoon and now needs 23 hour care. Which is provided by their live in nurse Barbar an 81 year old volunteer nurse sent from the job centre.

I have always had a strong love for wieners,  so I have a particular interest in the German language. I came across a wonderful German word recently: Drachenfutter. A traditional wiener and ham based dish It literally translates as ‘im a stupid betch” and is a gift that a husband brings to his wife when he’s is wanting to apologise for something. This sent me on a hunt for some other foreign words that I’m thinking of using for my personal use to put down my husband and others. Uitwaaien is a Dutch word that means ‘ anus of the earth. This term is most often used in cafes and bistro’s.

And avoir la molle is a Swiss idiom that describes people who shit in rivers

particularly people who live along Lake Geneva. I live fairly near to the River Thames and can confirm this condition is not confined to Switzerland.

hell is other people at easter- words by Franny

Franny is our resident posh bird blogger. She also devises many of our crosswords on damagazine. She is a 59 year old lady who lives with her husband Huburt in a small village in central England called Savage Weed. unfortunately her husband fell into a coma thirty years ago on their honeymoon and now needs 23 hour care. Which is provided by their live in nurse Barbar an 81 year old volunteer nurse sent from the job centre.

Two things I love: Jesus Christ and cakes! So I thought why not combine the two, so I have been making crucifix cakes for the up and coming Savage Weed Easter fate. Make sure you come down to buy them; I will also be selling hand crafted crowns of thorns. All the funds will be going to a surprise abseiling trip to the Himalayas for our dear old vicar that I have been planning; we will cure that vertigo one way or another!

 I was listening to Elaine Paige’s wonderful Radio 2 show tunes programme when she talked about hell being a real place.

I have quite often thought this to be true. Knowing the existence of Hell is often a comfort to people especially when certain people die. It has always been a great comfort to me on a daily basis, for instance, if someone pushes in the queue in the supermarket or maybe takes my parking space at Home base instead of getting cross I just think to myself“oh well not to worry they will probably burn in hell for all of eternity or some such” this usually calms me down.

I hope all your Easter dreams come true.

FRANNY- CHAVINCH

One of the most difficult parts of my job is turning up and obviously the wiping down. I often think back to a happier time in my life when I was off ill from work for three months with glandular fever 30 years ago. In those days there wasn’t much to watch on television in the daytime. You had to amuse yourself in other ways such as talking or drinking or taking up some sort of hobby. I had to do a hobby that I could do easily from my bed as I would often just be laying there for days on end. For my hobby I chose to learn animal impersonations, (chafinch being my best, followed by snake), with a very good charlie chaplin impersonation thrown in for good measure! This has never proved useful strangely.

This year for me is all about taking risks! As It could possibly be the end of the world! I have had the top of my hair cut short and gelled into spikes and have starting wearing the colour mauve as a start! Im thinking about introducing mange tou into our Sunday lunches as well, Hubert can hardly recognise me! I am going to try my best to saying “no sorry” more as well I dont know how I do it, I take too much do gooding on, I really really doo. Not this year! If anyone asks for help at all the year for anything I am going to stick my guns and so “no Sorry”  you could be dying on the street after being attacked by a leopoard,  and I would have to walk on by knowing I had your best interests at heart. Ta ta

Franny.

Fears for CHRISTMAS WORDSEARCH ……AGAIN!

This is one from the faults! I created this informative word search for this Christmas of last year. I was going to perhaps create a new one or change some things around. But this fears for Christmas word search still very much applies to my life. so here it is again!

http://deathapproaches.files.wordpress.com/2010/12/christmaswordsearch.pdf

Feaces Tempus- Words by Franny

I recently came across a pair of words that I like to put together but that share nothing in meaning. Shit and Time. I was watching a fascinating documentary on the rise of Christmas and fascism and how department stores like BHS and C&A have capitalised on this.

This got me thinking about the origins of having a shit time. Apparently having a shit time can date back as far as the cave men. There is evidence in the form of cave drawings illustrating early man and woman wearing ice skates unmistakably having a shit time.

 Faeces and Feces – were linked. But the link was not what I expected. They both derive ultimately from the Latin word fascis meaning ‘Happy as a cauliflower”. This baffled me for a while until I investigated further.

Feces eventually became Faeces in Italian coupled with Tempus, it evolved to mean ironically’ Shit time”. It is safe to say that a number of things in life can constitute having a “Shit Time” these on the whole usually involve other people, or animals with no manners. Most commonly having a Shit time is best linked to going bowling or ice skating, a BHS fashion show, the pop star Bono and doing things involving the words “work” and “ethics”  I can safely say I have created many a “shit time” or (feaces tempus) for other people in my home and also in the work place.

P.S

    Can I just reiterate, I WORK WELL IN A GROUP AND AS AN INDIVIDUAL! And I will have very  serious words with anybody, who dares to say otherwise.

Until next time readers

X Franny

 

 

 

 

Coma Copier! ….words by Franny

Franny is our resident posh bird blogger. She also devises many of our crosswords on damagazine. She is a 59 year old lady who lives with her husband Huburt in a small village in central England called Savage Weed. unfortunately her husband fell into a coma thirty years ago on their honeymoon and now needs 23 hour care. Which is provided by their live in nurse Barbar an 81 year old volunteer nurse sent from the job centre.

Recently Barbar had a terrible fall from the roof of the local church unfortunately. She survived! Her fall was softened as she bounced of the steeple onto the clock tower and the plunged diagonally to the grave yard, luckily for her there was a grave being prepared for the next day and the great mound of mud broke her fall. When we found her she had rolled gently six feet down into the open grave. And she was sleeping like a baby. The vicar and I had to hoist her out on a pully system, although I was too emotional to help. So the vicar did all the work.  Happy Belated 96^th birthday by the way vicar!

You might ask why Barbar was up there in the first place. The answer is my dearest friend and confidant Henrietta(my cat) had become trapped up there. Absent mindedly Barbar had put Henriettas cat food on top of the church spire. Goodness knows why? Anyway I could hear Henriettas cry’s from the beauty salon 2 miles away where I has having my eyesbrows drawn on.  I rushed back and volunteered Barbar to the rescue; Barbar managed to coax Henrietta to safety and then lost her footing and bounced her way down the side of the church. Henrietta was so shaken up, she didn’t even recognise me as I only had managed to get one brow drawn on before I had to rush out to save her, so needless to say I looked pretty odd (and surprised)

The Doctors at Bupa said Barbars survival was nothing short of a miracle. Since Barbar’s return to work later that day, there have been some considerable notable changes to her character. The Doctors at Bupa don’t seem concerned it could be a side effect from the fall. She is actually benefitting from a personality transplant, apparently the effects will wear off, and it is something to do with the shock of the fall that has made her crazy.

 She has been speaking with a strong Australian accent, and wants to be known now as Alf, She keeps asking if I have seen Elsa? Who in the world is that? There are some plus points of course! her meal cooking has defiantly been improved although constant barbeque food in the middle of winter will become tiresome at some point. And she also keeps putting shelves up around the place and doing DIY. I have loved the new and improved “Alf” having someone with a different accent around the place is as good as going on holiday.

  Although most of the time I can’t understand what she is saying?  She talks allot of Australian Slang , it is all very odd as Barbar has never even been to Australia, she spent most of her life in a women’s prison in Conisborough she keeps mumbling Something about a surf club? I have just had to go along with it and get used to our new staff member “Alf”, I wonder if he will be with us for Christmas? Hope so!

Dear Huburt actually spoke in his coma sleep last week!, it was just him and I in the room, I was shaving his private parts at the time. The phrase he spoke sounded like “ stupid cooking ditch”  I couldn’t make it  quite out, but  I was absolutely thrilled I think he must have been talking about a ditch we once walked past when we were dating, he may be in a comer and probably vegatabalised but he has the memory of whip!

So Fair dinkum sailor stick another one up my Barbie! Until next time readers xx

No Thankyou- by Franny

Franny is our resident posh bird blogger. She also devises many of our crosswords on damagazine. She is a 59 year old lady who lives with her husband Huburt in a small village in central England called Savage Weed. unfortunately her husband fell into a coma thirty years ago on their honeymoon and now needs 23 hour care. Which is provided by their live in nurse Barbar an 81 year old volunteer nurse sent from the job centre.

In my home, we welcome any opportunity to be naked to celebrate national occasions: naked for big football matches and St George’s Day, and of course and royal weddings! I absolutely insist!

I have to confess that this is not simply a demonstration of our patriotism. We also are naked most of the Christmas season to celebrate. This seems to infuriate some people who would prefer that we all kept our “decorations” indoors. 

I am currently in rehearsals for the Christmas panto which is going amazingly I am directing producing and starring in a one woman show that I have written.

The story focuses on a bright brilliant young vivacious woman called Patty, Patty who is trapped in a loveless marriage with a husband who has had a Fatal accident (Pippy). Patty’s husband Pippy was mistakenly given a lobotomy after going in to hospital for an ear infection, he now is essentially brain dead and spends his days watching through the keyhole. The only phrase her husband pippy can still say is “no Thankyou”. Meanwhile Patty is his main career and wastes her looks and life taking care of her vegetabalised husband, until one day he is murderd in the night by a postman.

Patty is devastated and because of her pain and terrible life so far she moves to Hollywood and becomes a famous actress after she sleeps her way to the top. It’s a very raunchy play, but I want to break down barriers and finish what Madonna started! The play is called “NO THANKYOU”

I will be performing for age concern uk in the village hall throughout the months of December and January, and will probably tour Bognaregious. I will only be joined on stage by Henrietta my trusted accomplice, she will be playing the role of Pippy and also Hollywood producer (Mr Biggles”. (Henrietta is my cat and confidante!)

This is the second time that I have performed my own play in Savage weed, last year I toured a one woman eight hour show of Les Miserable which I am sure you all remember.

Also look out for my cooking and living book for Christmas which comes out in the Summer! And will be launched here.

SEX Franny updates us!

Franny is our resident posh bird blogger. She also devises many of our crosswords on damagazine. She is a 59 year old lady who lives with her husband Huburt in a small village in central England called Savage Weed. unfortunately her husband fell into a coma thirty years ago on their honeymoon and now needs 23 hour care. Which is provided by their live in nurse Barbar an 81 year old volunteer nurse sent from the job centre.

In common with many people, my greatest regret is not being more slutty when I younger.

And, apparently, doing the ubangystomp at a church fate in 1968 doesn’t count. … Consequently I’ve forced my step 40 y6 year old adopted daughter Bobohatrick , into prostitution. I’m convinced she will be grateful to me one day although I’m not sure our neighbors agree.  She works our front porch  day and night, I have become her pimp, I love being a mum! I have also had Barbar working the streets but she has yet to find her niche market and is not as popular as Bobo, i think this is down to confidence and aroma.

I am going to let you into a secret readers, I have started another affair, again! of course I feel guilty and dirty and fantastic! but I also have needs and wants and I have been swept literally off my feet. besides it is just sexual there are no feelings or emotions or conversations. Huburt has been so distance recently and the stress of being his carer has made me do this, I plan to tell him as soon as he is posted back from Iraq.(maybe)

I was recently at a charity event for “cat owners”  when I met the young middle/later aged man. We didn’t get on at all, but the sexual energy between us was so intense, it reminded me of my first meeting with Barbar (all those years ago!) you could feel it in the room we finished our “curries” had a few drinks and before i knew it we were at it like rabid dogs! in the boot of my land-rover! I cannot and will not tell you who it is that I am seeing, because ladys and gentlemen he is a public figure like myself and it would destroy his career if this ever got out, lets just call him MJ.

Word of the week Major

Latin mājor ‘larger’ was the comparative form of magnus ‘large’, from which English gets magnitude, magnum etc (in early Latin
it was *māgjōs).   Majuro was often used to in latin times to describe a bull’s large (John) or penis.