Here are two pages of a diary from Grange Farm in St Andrews circa 1850. It's a breeze to read, let me tell ya. Especially the parts about disease and famine. Those are the best.Sometimes I listen to Scottish people talking and I think 'that is not English' -- well, reading this diary is kind of the same thing. I spend the majority of my time staring at the words and thinking to myself 'that is just not English.' And it's not. Most of the time it's Scots. Words like 'gulsoch,' 'sneevelak,' and 'shaiptur' are simply not a part of my vocabulary. LUCKILY I was graced once again with the benevolence of David Jones, and now carry this with me at all times:
For real. It exists. If you want your mind blown you should click here, and see what I am now speaking every day at work. On a related note I'm adding 'Scots' to the list of languages on my CV. A friend came to visit a few weeks ago and laughed at me when I spoke over the phone with someone from work. "You have a crazy accent" he said. It's true. I don't know what happened.
