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Tuesday, 20 February 2018

DIARY OF THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT BY FIONA CUMMINGS


Good morning Bloggets. I’m up at ridiculous hour. I got out of bed at twenty past seven. Hub had already been up forty minutes and was about to leave the house. I really don’t know how he does it. I did OK last night I must have fallen asleep after two this morning, that’s really good for me.

 

They say when you are blind your body clock is all messed up as you can’t tell when it’s day and night. So, your body doesn’t know when to shut down for the night. But if that’s the case, I could sleep during the day, unless that’s just pure exhaustion from lack of sleep the night before?

 

Day one in the big brother house… workmen forty minutes late. No explanation. No text. Already they are a day late as they were meant to start yesterday. We never learn. Workmen around here are dreadful, apart from the painter we got in a few weeks ago, he was spot on time and he did full days. Because of that, on reflection, I would get him again. I’m forever hopeful with these guys though, as he seems a good guy… Time will tell, no one can be as bad as the joiner we had and the very first shower fitters… Oh, and a few, not all, gardeners. Did I mention the gas fitters? Then the plumbers? Oh, and a tiler. Haha. But our painter was good. And, my now gardener is fine.

 

I have some online work to do today so that should keep me busy whilst my house is getting hammered again… When I said yesterday this is the house that Jack built, a couple of people one student from Spain studying English and a Blogget from Japan, emailed me to ask where does this saying come from? I remember I wrote of it’s origins before but what I don’t remember is, what I wrote, haha. It’s me age… So good old Google.

“This is the house that Jack built”” possibly the origin is from the mid-16th century. A handsome timber framed house in North East Shropshire in England, is reputed to be the actual house that Jack built. In the grounds there is a former malt house too.

 

As for who was Jack? Some say he was Jesus as Jesus was a carpenter, but personally as there is no other reference I can find, I just presume he was a builder of the time who was known to be a bad one. One I’m sure I would have got if I had been around then… Possibly I was and they have followed me in this world/time? Or, he could have just been a character the author picked the name and liked it.  It’s unusual for there not to be any reference who Jack was, so we are kept guessing but I love the rhyme. I haven’t written the rhyme but here is a rough synopsis.   

There is a nursery rhyme all about the house that Jack built. In his house was malt, the rat ate the malt and the cat ate the rat, the dog worried the cat, that killed the rat, who ate the malt there was a cow with a crumbled horn… haha. Really, how is that possible? Anyway, the cow tossed the dog who worried the cat who ate the rat who ate the malt. There was a maiden who was forlorn who used to milk the cow with the crumbled horn. And we know all about the cow who tossed the dog who killed the cat who ate the rat and that rat ate the malt, so, it’s all the malts fault…  but, then there was a man who was tattered and torn, who kissed the maiden who was all forlorn and then came in a judge all shaven and shorn… Really? So, now the meaning of shorn? (To cut. Normally to shear a sheep. So, possibly it just means he had a good hair day…) anyway, interesting the judge married the man who was tattered and torn… I hope he did his best for his wedding day…  I presume by the age of the rhyme; the judge married the man meaning to the maiden? As A, I doubt marriage between men would be considered in those days, and B, in those days, I doubt the judge would be a woman…  anyhow, there was a rooster in there as well, oh, yes it was all going on. There was a farmer, a horse and a horn too!

      

Where did this blog come from? And where will it end?

Seriously, did I wake up today and think, hmm. I must write about some moult, a rat, cat, dog, cow, maiden, scruffy man, judge, farmer a rooster and a horn… Forgive me if I missed anything out. Haha. Reminds me of school when we used to play a game of Mrs. Brown went shopping. It was a memory game. Many days spent in a mini bus travelling somewhere we played that game. I guess a bus full of children who either couldn’t see, or, were partially sighted I spy wouldn’t be helpful? Mind you, my first school, we used to sing a song which went, and remember most of the kids at my first school were totally blind.

I cannot see I have not brought my specs with me… (Specs, glasses)

I think that may have been the sick housestaff/teachers. But I did love that song. Sad really as Hub hated it, as I could see I wasn’t effected by the lyrics but now adult, for the children who were blind, it wasn’t nice.

 

Talking of blind, I have a story to tell you when I know all the answers. But, I can’t tell you how stressed I have felt and really gutted by what may be a life changer. But that is a much later blog. As the answer could take a month to learn, there again, I may find out tomorrow, but when I write about this, something that really has bothered me and hurt me this year, you may, be shocked. I know I was.

 

OK, a shout to a few friends and Bloggets. Firstly my darling Louise, going to write to you now. Judy, thank you for being a great friend, a true friend to our mutural pal Julie. And Vicki, thinking of you honey, get well soon. Terry, I hope you are having a great holiday at the beach and Geoff, hope you are feeling better. And, take it easy.

 

To all of you, stick together, keep it together and live forever. X

 

 

 

 

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