When I took over writing this weekly column from my dad in 2017, I was aware that it came with a number of burdens. Firstly, to step into my dad’s shoes, which are substantial, secondly, to do that every single week for 52 weeks a year, and thirdly, to keep coming up with interesting stuff to write about.
Fulfilling those requirements becomes even more difficult when you are feeling below par. As I write this, I am laid low with my third fluey bug in as many months. The first was definitely the worst, with me confined to bed for three full days, unable to do much more than make a cup of tea without feeling like I’d just run a marathon. The second was similar, but I was confined to bed for just the one day. This time, I don’t think it is as bad, but I have been full of cold and sneezing for several days now, yet still able to carry on as normal. I went to bed last night thinking that by today (day 4) I would be beginning to get better, only to find I woke up feeling like a limp dishrag. Motivation and inspiration are staying well away, clearly afraid of the germs lingering in the air.
It is at times like these when I am more grateful than usual for readers getting in touch with their own stories and comments because it means I can shamelessly use what they send me to fill column inches.
This week it is Albert Elliot from Castleton who, in my time of need, has come galloping to my rescue. He writes: “I was amused to read (last year!) the comments in your article in December on spelling mistakes. I wondered if you had ever seen this piece of doggerel that I picked up somewhere many years ago (see below)?
“In the early days of computers, before predictive text, spellcheckers were used, or so I understand (I am not particularly computer literate). I think it quite amusing. I still struggle with correct spelling myself and often make blunders, although I don’t like predictive text systems as they ‘jump the gun’ and get in the way! As far as I know the piece is by that famous author called ‘Anon’.”
This is the poem that Albert sent me, and it did make me chuckle because it is very clever and takes me back to the early days of PCs and Microsoft Word. Ahh things were so much simpler then (were they?).
Spell-cheque
I halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks I do knot sea
Eye strike a quay and type a word
And weight four it too say
Weather eye I am write or wrong
It shows me strait a weigh
As soon as a missed ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can putt the error rite
It’s rare lea ever wrong
Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
The spelling’s perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew!
As this poem demonstrates, and as those who have been caught out more recently by Autocorrect understand, it is never a good idea to rely on technology to do work you really ought to do yourself – that is to check your copy and messages before you send them to anyone else. Otherwise it could be very embarrassing indeed.
Albert also recalled a time when he met my dad: “Your father, Peter Walker, kindly came along to my writers’ group (the Egton Bridge Writers Group – still in full vigour and of which I remain a member) and gave us an interesting talk on himself and his writing career…Although this was a long time ago, I remember the talk was fascinating and thoroughly enjoyed by the whole group. He has left a lasting legacy with his Heartbeat stories and other Yorkshire writings.”
I never tire of hearing about tales involving my dad, many of which I would never know if people didn’t get in touch.
So very many thanks to Albert, and on that note, I’m off back to bed with a Lemsip. Normal service will, I hope, resume next week.
Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me via the ‘Contact’ tab at the top right of this page.
This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 24th Jan and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 22nd Jan 2025
The Countryman's Daughter 