Ey up, it’s time to talk dialect with Adam Collier as he returns from the northern most ceremonial county of England.

EY up, I am back from my holidays and I didn't over do it in the swimming pool, so I am feeling very refreshed, with lots of stories to tell.

First, I must just put your minds at rest about my father – he is not still in the hole he dug, we got him out and he is fit and well.

After being away in a different land, granted it is not far to Northumberland, but for someone who feels as though he has gone abroad when going over the county bridge at Malton, Northumberland is a long way, and the Tyne Tunnel, well that's another story.

In all seriousness, after being away and listening to the Northumberland folk, it started me thinking about the things we say on a daily basis, either as an answer to a question or to fill a gap in conversation.

I discovered that if you asked for something or asked a question and said thank you, you got this lovely "Noo Bother". It was heard on a daily basis, so I started to think about what we say and it came to me that we Ryedale folk use very few words – if one word will do then that is fine.

Aye, for instance, is a word commonly used in our dialect for the word yes. For example, "ist tha alreet", the answer is "Aye", not "yes thank you and how are you?", just simply "Aye". Why bother having a conversation when one word will do.

All this brings back a conversation I heard my brother have one night on the telephone, and for those who know my brother you will know that he is a man of very few words (I make up for him). The conversation went like this: "Ey up, yes,.... yes,..... yes,..... yes,..... yes,..... Aye,..... yes...... Aye,......hmmmm no, Ta ra."

After he hung up, I asked him what the conversation was about and, believe it or not, he had arranged to go out for the night, arranged who he was picking up, where and at what time – I would have at least had to write it down.

I did get up to all sorts on holiday. I was the proper the tourist and saw all the sights, including the bottom of the swimming pool when I nearly drowned, but I managed to find my way out. The water, or should I say watter up there is so soft – it is lovely and not like the hard stuff we have down here.

There's another word – watter. I once asked a young girl in a cafe in York for a glass of watter and she didn't have a clue about what I was talking about, but then most folks don't. I told her I wanted water and she asked why I pronounced it watter and I left her a little bit confused when I told her it is because there is no r in the middle.

Same, as I once told the little lad when he went back to school to ask for watter and not water and see what the answer was, put it like this his mother was non too pleased because he got detention, ooops.

Before I go, on the subject of drowning here is one for you. There was a farm worker walking down a lane and when he looked into a field and saw a man up to his neck in a pond drowning, he shouts: "Ist tha allreet?" "Nay," he replies, "as drundin". The farm worker said: "What's tha naame?" and the man replied, "John William Issac Robinson, but what has that gott te de wiv it?" "Where dist thou wark?" he asked the poor man and he replied: "Bielbys Farm, but I caant hang on mich langer, as drundin."

The man left him drowning in the pond went to the farm and knocked on the door and asked the farmer: "Dist thou know a fella called John William Issac Robinson?" "Yis", said the farmer. "Weel he said he is up tiv is neck ole iv a pond and drundin." "What about it?" said the farmer.

He replied: "i hev coome for is job." The farmer said: "Thou's awwer laate, ah gev it ti't fella what threw him in."

Must go, I have mother on the phone to say me dads gone to Filey to the beach with his metal detector and we might not see him again.