Below is part of one of the many stories Ken translated from Guernsey-French. The Guernsey-French spoken in homes was affectionate and full of fun and do not translate easily. Ken translated the stories into a common way of speaking he would have heard as a boy. The stories are very funny anecdotes.
La Grënmaire va ès Ormars
Y'AVAIT enn'bouanne maras à ormars la s'moine passaïs, et nous a terjous amors de y'allaï. Nous a étaï levaïs par la bënque, et vraimënt nous s'y piaïs. Pensais donc que quën j'etaïme
s à en palaï la serras de dvëns, la grënmèredie, "Si vous en allais à basse yaüx, j'y'viendraï étou. Y'a enne fichu achie que je n'y ai pas étaï." Et a s'mie à rire comme enne perdue.
Nous n'la voulait poui, parceque comme de raison, al'est viaille, et su la bënque, a niait pas qu'a n'vaut, mais en mesme temps nous n'osait pas le r'fusaï. A' est enne drôle de viaille pie, et à l'haüre a prend affront. Al'erait bientot dit que nous n'la voulait pas. ( Al' y eux raison, mais tout d'maesme i vallait mue s'tais.)
* * *
LE londemoïn a n'avait pas fichu rombiyaï. Al' était l'vas à six haüres et d'mie à romiger dans ses haleux pour de viailles hardes. Et pie yaüx en terribye camas parce qu'a n'pouvait pas trouvaï ses bottes à elastic. A les trouvit su la fin au shnas. Al'taiÿt si. excitas qu'a mie sën skirt à l'envers. Mais a n'le chëngit pas. Comme a die, "S'ra pour good luck."
Géneralemënt a met quatre cotiyons, mais s'talle, "J' en ai riauque mis daüx, parce quën nou est mouoyis v'la qui peusse et je n's'y pas si jaunne coumme j'étais.
* * *
A DOUZE haüres et d'mie nou vla allaï. J'etaïmes quatre dans l'quériau à rocque du vaïsin Toumas, y'avait l'onque Georges, la grosse Marguerite, la grënmaire, et mai.
Nous aü bian d'la poïne à montaï la viaille faume dans le queriau, mais su la fin, nous v'la allaï. La jumon était viaille, et al'allait en pas augniet et l'autre demoïn. La grënmère chëntit à tue-tête tous le long du ch'min.
Nous passit enne guaine de mousses qui s'mirent à rire qu'el giâtre quën i virent la viaille dauve sen hook assise l'dvëns du quériot. "J'ensai qui qu'ils ont à jiffaï d'mesme," s'fit alle, "Pour mai, je n'vaie rian à rire."
* * *
BIENTOT nous v'la dans la bënque, et la maïr avait déja d'vallaï, "Trouvous trgop yan à marchier, grënmaire?" d'mëndit la Marguerite. "Vous s'raï lassas d'vëns d'y gaugnier." "Vé-tu, bravemënt, et soïgne à tes affaires. Tu n'y counnie rian du tout. Gâche-à-pan, j'allais à basse yaüx d'vën que tu n'fusse naïs. Si quiqu'uns sont lassais, s'ra pas mai, dont terjous. J'enai chose de t'ouï pâlaï d'maeme."
Je n'sai pus combien longtemps que la viaille erait continuaï à rouabyai, mais a s'eschoppit par sus enne rocque, et v'la qui la fit se taïs pour ën p'tit, et la Marguerite n'osit pas d'autre dire grën chose.
Bientot s'fit l' onque Georges, "Avous ën mouchaeux, grënmaire, parce qu'le naï coule tout l'temps qu'en nous est par la bënque."
"Nënnain j'n'en ai pouit," repounit la viaille toute ragoïne, "sh'est riauque pour le pairdre."
"Pense donc qui faut des coupons* pour des moucheux, et tu rouennnes terjous que t'en as pas assaï. Pour m™ai, j'torche mën naï su l'bas de mën cotiyon. V'la qu'est tout à fait bouan assaï."
* * *
SU la fin, nous vla quasi au bord d'la maïr, et pour en dire la veritaï la viaille faume avait bouan pi. Al'allait justemënt bian, et montait par desus les rocques comme enne biche.
Qu'en j'quaü dans enne maras, al'tait la prumière à en rire. "Là donc," s't-alle, "si sh'tait mai tu dirais, 'Sh'est la vieillesse. A n'erait pouit deux y v'ni. Sh'est tai qu'est ashocre."
La v'la qui s'mai à tournaï les rocques, et nous n'oyait d'autre mot. Sh'tait enne bouanne maras et pour en dire la veritaï, nous rombiyit tout autouor la grënmaire.
* * *
BIENTOT nous l'oyait qu'a' chëntait au haut d'sa vouaix - "Ta ra ra boom de ay," "Ecoute là donc, s'fait la Marguerite, "s'n affaire, va bien. J'pense qu'a trouve tout pioïn d'ormars." La chënson continuit - "Ta ra ra boom de ay, Ta ra ra - (du giâtre j'me pinche les deis, et mon fichu naï coule to.ïut l'temps) boom de ay. Ta ra ra boom (fichu tracas, i sont têtus coummes des ânes. Sticques t'y dur) de ay. Ta ra ra- " et pie donc nous ouïes ën fichu gros fias, et ën fameuse équiavinrie et la viaille qui jurait les toutes grosses paroless.
"Je pense vraimënt que la v'la bas," dit l'onque Georges, "y faudra bian allaï y vais. Doubye de viaille, al'erait fait mû de restaï à la maison."
* * *
NOU fit le touor d'enne grosse rocque, et en effet, v'la la viaille assise dans enne grën maras d'iaü, les djérais en l'ar. A riait auchetaure coumme enne perdue. "J'en ai jusqu'a la c'mainse," a nous die, "mais j'ai sauvaï mes ormars." Nous la butit dauve bian d'la poïne, parce qu'al'était grosse. Et a souffiait comme ën beu..
"Bon," a nous r'merquit, "allous en. J's'y ' all right . Ta ra ra boom de ay," et la v'la qu'a tourne les rocques qu'el giâtre. Ses hardes étaient trëmpas, jusqu'au frill de sen 'scoop'.Ò, est ses g'vaux pendaient commes des petites coues d'rat par su les jaux.
Mais a l'avait d'la poïne à marchier, parce qu'a l'avait fendu le but de yeune de ses bottes à lastic, et sen gros orté était ou il épiait par dehors. Bientot la maïr se mie à montaï et nous c'mënchit à s'ramassaï. Mais a tournaï acore bouan rède, et sen paunnier était quasi pioïn.
* * *
TOUS d'en caü, a écriyit, et la v'la bas dans enne autre maras. "V'naï m'aiguer," a criyit," "mën pi est dans en pertu," et a s'mie à heurlaï.
"Qui donc que vous avaï?" j'l'y die. "Vite, vite, vite, y'a quiqu' chose qui m'pinche l'orté. Avenche donc à m'aiguier. Doubye de paumme cuite!"
"Faisaï poui autëns d'camas, j'vous en prie," le Georges l'y die. "J' voudrais que t'erais m'n orté," a repounit.
Nou s'mit à hallaï su la viaille, et a heurlait des broyons à tue-tête. Su la fin nous hallit sën pi de d'dans le pertu, et vraimënt, l'avait en gros houmard pendu à l'orté.
Sën paure orté fut meurdrit pour longtem.ïps, mais nous est bian anniais de la ouïr s'vëntaï de comme a va à basse iau et r'vian dauve des houmards, tandis que j'n'avons que quique orm
Grandma goes ormering
* * * *
There was a good ormering tide last week, and we were always accustomed to going ormering. We were brought up on the beaches where we always found a lot of pleasure.Just think then,that when we were talking about it the previous evening, Grandma said, "If you are goin' at low-tide (ormering), den I is comin' too. It is a terrible long time dat I ave not been." And she started to laugh like a loony.We did not want her at all, because, naturally, she is old and because, on the beach, she is more bother than she is worth, but at the same time we dare not refuse her. She's a funny old magpie and at times she gets offended. She would be quick to say that we did not want her (she would be right, but just the same it is better to remain silent).
* * * *
The next day she hadn't darned well forgotten. She was up at six-thirty rummaging in her drawers for some old clothes. Then there was a frightful commotion because she could not find her elastic-sided boots. She found them, finally, in the loft. She was so excited that she had put her skirt on back to front. But she didn't change it. As she said, "Dat is for good luck." She usually put on four petticoats, but she said, "I ave only put on two, because wen one is wet, dey get eavy, and I am not so young now, me."
* * * *
At 12.30 off we set, the four of us, in neighbour Toumas's old granite cart, along with Uncle Georges, big Marguerite, Grandma and I.
We had a lot of trouble getting the old girl into the cart, but in the end off we went. The mare was old and she only went at one step today and the next tomorrow. Grandma sang at the top of her voice all the way along the road. We passed a crowd of young la€ds who started to laugh like the devil when they saw the old girl with her ormering hook seated at the front. "I do not know why dey are laughing like dat," she said, "I do not see nottin to laugh at me."
* * * *
Soon, there we were on the beach where the tide had already fallen. "Do you find it too far to walk Grandma?" asked Marguerite. "You will be tired by the time you get there." "You look after yourself, you, and mind your own business. You do not know not tin, you. Gâche-a-pan, I was goin ormerin, me, before you was born. If anyone gets tired, like usual, it will not be me. I do not care to hear you talk like dat."
* * * *
I do not know how long the old girl would have continued to grumble, but she tripped on a rock, and that kept her quiet for a while, and Marguerite dare not say very much.
Shortly, Uncle Georges said, "Have you a handkerchief, Grandma, my nose has been running all the time we have been on the beach?"
"No, I 'ave not got any,me," replied the o¨ld lady crossly, "it is only to lose dem. Tink den of de (clothing) coupons needed for handkerchiefs, and you who grumbles dat you have not enough. For me, I wipe my nose on de bottom of my petticoat, dat is quite good enough."
* * * *
Finally, there we were at the water's edge, and to tell the truth, the old girl had walked well. She was going along fine and scrambling up the rocks like a goat. When I fell in a pool, she was the first to laugh. "Dere
now," she said, " if dat was me, you would say dat it was my old age and dat I should never ave come. But it is you wot is clumsy."
There she was starting to turn over the stones, and we did not hear another word. It was a fine tide and, to tell you the truth, we forgot completely about Grandma.
* * * *
Presently we heard her singing at the top of her voice, "Ta ra ra boom de ay, Ta ra ra-(dammee, I've pinched my finger, and my nose, it runs all de time) boom de ay. Ta ra ra.· boom (darned tings, dey are as stubborn as donkeys. Don't dey stick hard) de ay. Ta ra ra-" and then we heard a tremëndous clatter, and an almighty splashing and the old girl swearing like a trooper.
"I really think that she has fallen," said Uncle Georges, "we had better go and see to her. Damned old woman, she would have done better to have stayed at home."
* * * *
We walked round a large rock, and there was the old lady sitting in a large pool of water, her legs in the air. She was now laughing like a loony. "I've ad it right up to my chemise," she told us, "but I saved my . . ormers." We got her up again with a lot of trouble as she is very large. She was blowing like a ox.
"Good," she told us, "be off wid you, I'm all right, me. Ta ra boom de ay," and there she was turning over the stones again. Her clothes were soaked right up to the frill of her scoop bonnet, and her hair hung in rat-
* * * *
Suddenly she slipped, and there she was down in another pool. "Come and 'elp me," she cried, "my foot it is in a ole," and she began to cry out.
"What is wrong?"I asked her. "Quick, quick, quick, sometin is pinchin my toe. Come along and 'elp me. Double stewed apples!"
"Don't make so much row, I beg you," said Georges. "I wish dat you 'ad my toe," she replied.
We all started to tug on the old lady, and she hurled imprecations at the top of her voice. Eventually we got her toe out of the hole, and truly, she had a large lobster hanging from it.
Her poor toe was bruised for a long while, but it for many years that we suffered her boasting of how she went ormering and came back with a lobster, while we only had ormers.
* * * *