Meltdown Meltham

Lythmore. It happens to the best of them. After a few weeks confined in a small space with a load of noisy nutters, they go a bit mad. Marcham.

Mansfield Woodhouse. My brain has gone into meltdown, so I’ve abandoned my original plan. Apart from anything else, 500 place names?? It makes my brain hurt just thinking about it. Lower Slaughter.

Meltham. So, in an uncharacteristic attempt to Be Kind To Clare, I’m going to write 500 words with a few place names thrown in randomly and hope that will do. Winterbottom.

In Winterbourne was I winter born, or I Woodham been if it weren't actually Summerseat at the time, with Lambeth lambs a-frolicking and all that, except that, hang on Hanmer, that would have made it Springfield. Oh, I'm lost in Lostock already. What was I Torkington about again?

Oh fuck it. I mean Fulking it. Can I write a poem? I like poems.

In Hankerton they hankered long
While Little Knox smoked Llanon bong
And Lerwick folk had cod in Little Leigh.
But Llanmadoc were playing fire
Which stoked poor Fulmerton’s red ire
So Lower Gabwell said, “Come round for tea!”
Which would have played it out just right
If Linlithgow’d not taken fright
And poked Longframlington to start a fight.
“We’ll have you all!” they shouted loud
With Garway spears and Goldcliff-proud
Of hale Hale kippers (twenty to the pound).
And next we knew, with Fulford glee
We’d none of us gone round to tea
Instead were stuck in Greater Leigh or Smee.
So, giving up on making sense,
Or having brains or keeping tense
We’ll all troop down to Garvestone in whens.
And that’s all fine I think you’ll find
As long as you’ve not lost your mind
Or left it down the pub in Harborough Magna.
Or on a bench at Gardeners Green
Or in the pond by East Ravine
Or down by Elslack bowling green, with Fred.
Cos Fred’s well known for stealing brains
Especially when it rains and rains
And floods the river down at old Elsted.
And thus you’ll see, with Hatley glee
These hundred words enough for me
And Findrack House, and Finedon, and Cwm.

Bored of that now, so I’ll write about place names. My mum always tells of how she and her sisters, simple country girls that they were, would entertain themselves of an evening by thumbing through an atlas. “Oh look,” my aunt Clare would say, “Bum largum!”

Bum largum isn’t a real place name, but Little Scatwell and Little Snoring are, as are Three Legged Cross, Briantspuddle, Droop, Boot and Gussage St Michael. Over Wallop, Middle Wallop and Nether Wallop are probably my favourites, but then there’s Wallowbarrow (a mountain), Peel Place Noddle (more of a hill), Wry Nose Pass, Waberthwaite, Corney Fell and Birker Moor.

Personally I like the silly pronunciations: Arkansas (“Arkinsaw”), Houston (“Hee-ooston”) and Poughkeepsie (“Perkipsy”), for instance (proving it’s not just Britain).

But oh, look at that: 490 words. Nightcott night all. Sleep Tideswell.

Comments

[Cat]

Good work, missus. I might just post a tube map - my chances of winning immunity with this task are nil.

[penfold]

Clare you are proper bonkers. Gis a snog!

[Big Blogger]

*round of applause*

[bedshaped]

Ooh, that's set the bar high.

[Clare]

[snogs Penfold]

Anyone else?

[penfold]

Crikey.
I think I need a stiff drink...

[Helena]

Yes - go on Clare! Give the surfer a big, wet sloppy kiss!!!!

[Angelalala]

Faberlus, dahling!

[Big Blogger]

This is brilliant, apart from three of the last four paragraphs which unfortunately do not adhere to the 'do not write about place names' stipulation of this task. It still made me laugh, and Nether Wallop is one of my personal favourites too, but I can't include those last few names I'm afraid.

So, leaving out those paragraphs means that your total comes to a not insignificant 43.

[Clare]

"three of the last four paragraphs which unfortunately do not adhere to the 'do not write about place names' stipulation of this task"

Bollocks. Oh well. Nether Wallop is ace, and anyway I totally gave up on winning this task when my head went into meltdown.

And Helena, I'll have you know I don't do wet sloppy ones. They are moist, slinky and firm.

[Big Blogger]

I'm horrible, I know.

Anyone wanna join my fanclub?

[Angelalala]

Is there an initiation ceremony?

[penfold]

I'll only join if you have a big badge of you with googly eyes (like the gnasher ones)...

[Clare]

Ooh, I used to have a Gnasher fan-club badge! I wonder what happened to it?

I'll join if I get a badge, too.

[Spanish Goth]

Well I think it's cool and if you want me to TWAT BB I will do so, quite happily.

As for the snoggy thing - we'll see

*retreats back into the darkness*