Scowld today, int it?
As they say in East Yorkshire. In Hull, however, just 17 miles away, it's "Scurld today, innit?". Having something of a mixed accent (but definitely Northern), I talk about being 'curled' all the time.
Bristle is a bit quiet at the moment with it being out of term so I spent last weekend leafletting a residential area by myself. Hence, I decided since I was in Bristol West between now and the election, I would take a trip to do some campaigning in Cambridge where I happen to have a good friend who is also a PhD student and is thus around during university holidays. This did require getting up rather early in the morning to arrive in Cambridge by about 10:30 am and Cambridge was, erm, 'curled'. This was something I hadn't taken account of when picking my outfit. I am spoiled by Bristol which, warmed by the Gulf Stream, ranges between balmy and Mediterranean. Apparently they had a snowstorm on Friday in Cambridge, which didn't surprise me one bit.
Myself and friend took a short bus trip to one of the outer wards and were canvassing between 11 and 3pm, mostly on the same street. The only people who appeared to be in on a Saturday morning on my side of the street were elderly ladies who were predominantly Tory, and weren't particularly welcoming to someone wearing a Lib Dem rosette (one of them leant out the window and yelled "I'm not Liberal" before slamming the window). His side of the street was apparently quite positive (two people took posters to put up in windows); I do wonder if the demographic on my side of the street was repeated on his side of the street, but that the appearance of a well-spoken, handsome young man on the doorstep elicited a different response from said ladies. After all, I have had many conversations with gentleman of mature years who take the time to lay out to me at length their opinion on the issues of the age before adding finally "And, you know, dear, I'm 85 and I've voted Conservative all my life".
By the time I finished, I was blue up to my elbows (in fact, one of the older ladies who did speak to me said that she was so impressed by my dedication standing shivering in howling wind on her doorstep that she was going to vote Lib Dem this time, which was very gratifying). I went back to the campaign HQ and was huddled up shivering continuously. I also discovered that the mild pepping cough I have had all week became a full-blown 'hacking my lungs out' on exposure to the cold.
I ended up stuffing envelopes in the campaigns HQ for the rest of the afternoon, worrying that my friend was a) probably sick to death of listening to me making remarks about how cold I was and sorrowfully holding out my skinny purple and orange flecked limbs for inspection and, b) wanted to walk across town to do more leafletting (he was entirely sensibly wearing a jumper and a fleece).
Got home about 8:30pm sort of time. Cold apart, a really nice day out.