St. Lawrence Market, Toronto

[CanuckJim]

Sarah, Frances,

Bertie Wooster rules, or at least he thinks he does, until Jeeves makes his entrance to repair the sticky wicket, and the day, what, from damage done by the sheila with the golf clubs. Have a read of "Aunts Ain't Gentlemen" perforce. I once had considerable dealings with a gent, unnamed, who had a posh palace on Pall Mall and a not too inconsiderable spot near Newmarket (earliest part sixteenth century, don't cha know, old stick, hard by the bluebell wood). The butler did everything, just like Jeeves. What ho! It's a different life, different culture; very fine, too, in some manifestations, despite the not moving your lips when you speak. Yucky food, at the time, better now, ceptin for the beer and the cider. You got some splainin to do, Frances. How in tarnation can a bodice ripper thesis prepare you for oven building and children? A conundrum to ponder.

Umm, it may becoming clear that dialects: English, Aussie, Canadian, Irish, whatnot, are a bit of a hobby horse (Laurence Stern) with me. Split infinitives notwithstanding .

Jim

[gjbingham]

More smiles! A hobby horse? I bet when you speak them thar dialects, you sound like a local yokel.