I am sure this is a dialect word that used to be common in our family – Nottingham parents but my brother, sisters and I are all English Channel coast natives – but I've not heard anywhere else: twitchel.
A twitchel (you'll have to take my word on't spelling) is of course a footpath, but not a roadside pavement. So when at Grandma's in Arnold, if she directed any of us to a small nearby shop it'd be "Cross the road and go through the twitchel" – between two of the houses and gardens.
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In Settle a couple of years ago I needed to buy a pair of wellies as I'd forgotten to bring a pair. The first shop didn't have any but suggested who might. I confessed being a visitor:
" Ah riiiight! Across main road, down through t' ginnel…. "
I found it. I've been visiting that area for long enough to know some of the glorious Northern English language. I've even found myself using up some constructions, like "were" where "was" is by the book; and "stopping" for staying (overnight). It's helped perhaps by a trace of inherited Notts accent: a twitchel is a path not a parth, and my home's facilities include a bath nor barth.
NB, that "t' " is silent, a sort of glottal stop. In some parts of the North-West, too, it'd be "reet" not that flatter, longer "raiight". In the Tan Hill Inn one night I heard someone ask about turning off the "leets".
Including Norse words: the stream called Fell Beck, on Ingleborough, is directly "Fjell Bekk" in modern Norwegian, meaning "Hill / moor stream."
And is "Aye" (Yes) from still-current Norse "Ja". pron. "ya", perhaps? Aye seems to have tenses, from what I've heard among Northern friends. The Assertive: "Oh Aye!" in response to a comment like, "That were a right good do" – perhaps with the suffix "were that!" for added emphasis. Or the Ruminative: "Aye…", almost a sigh with a slight upwards inflexion, perhaps when considering some sad event: "It were a bad do, that."
A lot of ancient geographical names seem exotic dialect but are really mundane when translated. Norway is full of Bla / Kvitt / Sna Fjells (I can't type the accented 'a' here): almost phonetically Blue / White / Snow Fells. Similarly why do we have at least two River Rivers in England? (Avon = River.)
And the Dorset village, Ryme Intrinseca, sounds right fancy. I don't know the Ryme part but the Latin, Intrinseca, was just a Church property term.
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These might be family rather than dialect sayings, but asked "Where are we going?" Grandad's common reply was "There and back to see how far it is!". Try to persuade him to go for walk, and if he wasn't feeling up to it, it was "Can't, I've a bone in me leg!"
Told the price of something clearly over-priced or extravagant, Mum would ripost, "Cheap at half the price. We'll have two!".
Once I called round to my Aunt Edie, widow of a Nottingham miner, to find her swaddled in heavy-duty corsetry as she did the washing. "Oooh, Come in! " she said in her rich accent, then as she bustled around to find something to wear on top, "And 'ere's me in me disbuss!"
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Years ago I knew someone who if asked what he was making would usually reply, "A lay-'ole for a meddler!". Of course it was….
Walking with friends in the Cotswolds one day, we mis-read the map, ended up inadvertently trespassing, and the farmer spotted us. He could have ordered us back but instead directed us onwards across the field "… to the obbley-eyed gate…" We thought it politic not to ask but to discover for ourselves what is an obbley-eyed gate. It's a decrepit, wonky one. Naturally, it'd be right – just needs a bit more universal agricultural fixative, aka binder-twine.