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larryhammerTBD is 20 months old and suddenly has the attention span to sit through nursery rhymes, bringing us a Mother Goose board book to read several times a day. A few specific pages have the most attention: "Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man" because it's familiar from library story-time, "Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross" because the white horse in the picture are reminders of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dancinghorse's Fat White PoniesTM. But the others are wanted, as well, and TBD shows varying degrees of interest among them. Cats in pictures help, with or without fiddles.
(As an aside, if I had the power to excise one nursery rhyme from the canon, it would be "Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater." Ugh. Even more, yes, than "What are little boys made of?")
TBD is understanding simple questions about daily life and answering with headshakes/nods or other appropriate actions: "Are you ready to lie down (on the changing table)?" "Are you hungry?" "Are you done (eating)?" And even make jokes out of this -- unexpectedly answering incorrectly to throw us off, then giggling at the idea -- of course you'd want to leave the changing table, or whatever. Some answers are creative: when TBD didn't want to go to the playground, the answer was to take shoes off (required for going outside).
And with this new facility at interacting with us, TBD suddenly feels more like a small person. We are, indeed, social beings who respond to language.
If you could banish one nursery rhyme, which would it be?
---L.
Subject quote from "Spring," Richard Shindell.
dancinghorse's Fat White PoniesTM. But the others are wanted, as well, and TBD shows varying degrees of interest among them. Cats in pictures help, with or without fiddles. (As an aside, if I had the power to excise one nursery rhyme from the canon, it would be "Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater." Ugh. Even more, yes, than "What are little boys made of?")
TBD is understanding simple questions about daily life and answering with headshakes/nods or other appropriate actions: "Are you ready to lie down (on the changing table)?" "Are you hungry?" "Are you done (eating)?" And even make jokes out of this -- unexpectedly answering incorrectly to throw us off, then giggling at the idea -- of course you'd want to leave the changing table, or whatever. Some answers are creative: when TBD didn't want to go to the playground, the answer was to take shoes off (required for going outside).
And with this new facility at interacting with us, TBD suddenly feels more like a small person. We are, indeed, social beings who respond to language.
If you could banish one nursery rhyme, which would it be?
---L.
Subject quote from "Spring," Richard Shindell.
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Date: 30 December 2014 09:40 pm (UTC)[I suppose the reason is obvious.]
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Date: 30 December 2014 09:41 pm (UTC)I don't remember specifically which one I wanted most to banish, but one thing that sticks is saying--also cheerfully--"Rub a dub dub, three professionals in a tub."
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Date: 30 December 2014 10:35 pm (UTC)---L.
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Date: 30 December 2014 10:40 pm (UTC)"Rub a dub dub, three professionals in a tub."
*snrk*
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Date: 30 December 2014 10:49 pm (UTC)Penelope Mortimer did that (in a way) in her novel The Pumpkin Eater, based in part I believe on her marriage to John "Rumpole" Mortimer.
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Date: 31 December 2014 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 31 December 2014 03:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 31 December 2014 03:11 pm (UTC)Yanno, I've seen translations of Icelandic folktales, but not Icelandic nursery rhymes. From the rest of Scandinavia, sure, but not there. Hmm.
---L.
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Date: 31 December 2014 06:27 pm (UTC)I'd have to look at that old book I read a gazillion times to recollect the ones that I slipped by, not wanting the words to descend into deep memory.
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Date: 31 December 2014 06:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 31 December 2014 06:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 31 December 2014 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 31 December 2014 11:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 1 January 2015 03:16 pm (UTC)One of my favorites is a little bit creepy.
Þegar fjöllin fimbulhá
fylla brjóst þitt heitri þrá
leika skal ég langspil á,
það mun þinn hugann hugga.
-Bíum, bíum, bambaló,
bambaló og dillidillidó.
Vini mínum vagga ég í ró
en úti bíður andlit á glugga.-
Þegar veður geysa grimm,
grúfir yfir hríðin dimm,
kveiki ég á kertum fimm,
burflæmi skammdegis skugga.
Bíum, bíum, bambaló........
Ef þér sultur sverfur að
sauðakjöt ég hegg í spað
fljótt svo standi full með það
tunna hver, dallur og dugga.
Bíum, bíum, bambaló.......
Ef þig langar eitthvert sinn
ögn að smakka góðfiskinn
fram ég sendi flotann minn;
skínandi skútur og kugga.
Bíum, bíum, bambaló........
Hjá mér bæði hlíf og skjól
hafa skaltu' ef illskufól
flærðir með um foldarból
læðast og launráð brugga.
Bíum, bíum, bambaló........
In my own (loose) English translation
When the high mountains
fill your heart with yearning
I shall play on my zither
It will comfort you
Bium, bium, bambalo
bambalo and dillidillido
I rock my friend to sleep
but outside there's a face in the window
When the wind howls
and the strom turns everything din
I light five candles
and chase the darkness away
Bium, bium, bambalo...
If you are very hungry
I cut down mutton
quickly so I can fill
every barrel, bow and boat
Bium, bium, bambalo...
If you like to taste
a bit of the good fish
I'll send my fleet
shining ships and vessels
Bium, bium bambalo...
With me, you can have both
shelter and cover if evil doers
go around the land
conniving and scheming.
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Date: 1 January 2015 08:48 pm (UTC)