Uff Da!

A vignette from my paternal ancestry, based on what I’ve learned from participating in the National Geographic Genographic project:

Bjarni the Viking oarsman, becomes lost in the Scottish heather after a night of heavy pillaging and stumbles into a humble hamlet where he meets up with Duffy the farmer.
Bjarni: Hvar er the öl?*
Duffy: Dornt ken whit yoo're sayin' but we've got a brammer pot ay stew in th' hut.

Duffy’s comely daughter Aithbhreac bounces out to feed the flock.
Duffy: Guid day, dochter, yoo've bin pinin' since th' bear ate 'at laddie ay yoors. whit abit thes fellaw?
Aithbhreac: (giving Bjarni the once over) Och aye, yoo're bonnie enaw, but yoo'd better pit doon 'at battle axe ur yoo'll scaur th' sheep.
Bjarni: Hvar er the kjöt?**
Duffy: Lookee thaur, th' druid is reit behin' th' cabre. an' he brooght mistletoe.
Aithbhreac: Stain haur please.
Bjarni: Hvar ert the vídeó leikur?***
(Druid gestures meaningfully over Bjarni and Aithbhreac)
Duffy: Gallus! welcome tae th' fowk, laddie wi' a funay hat!

And 20 or so Y-chromosome hand-offs down the road, or roundabout 1770, Thomas Gillespie sets off for the New World.

(*where’s the ale? **where’s the meat? ***where are the video games?)