Ey up, it’s time to talk dialect with Adam Collier, who has a spring in his step.

Ey up, how ist tha? Well I brought back some memories last month about the double oler and the izzal toilet paper. A lot of people told me they remembered both and that I had brought back fond memories.

Well this month has flown and March will soon be up on us and, if I dare say, spring is in the air, the snowdrops are looking grand and the daffodils and crocuses are coming out and, for me, the rabbits are getting a bit frisky – you have to feed them in your flat cap because they are spraying all over and it is a messy carry on.

Spring is my favourite season because everything is fresh and crisp and things are getting colour and, all importantly, the nights are getting longer. My grandad used to say, “neets are drawing oot a cock stride langer ivvery day”. I can hear him now.

This time of year always reminds me of a poem called On a farm. It is about country life and is aimed at someone from a town. The third verse reads, “thoo’s not eard a lark sing atween fower and fhave, nor a throstle a bit efter three? Ah’ve getten up on purpose, aye mony a tahme, there’s nowt beats sike music time. And the fourth verse reads, “ there’s a lahtle pig grunts an a cauf gives a beal, an hosses int staeble al neigh an lambs oot it paddock agean plantin side al bleat as they’re friskin away” and for me this poem says how I feel about spring and what this great county of ours means to me.

Another saying that comes to mind at this time of year is, “Ne’er cast a clout til May is out”. I am sure it is a saying you have all heard, but what does it mean. Well, it means don’t get rid of your vest or thermals until May is out. The big question as always been “which may”, well folks it refers to the May blossom or the hawthorn. So for those of you who used to keep your long johns on until June, you are okay this year and can cast them aside in mid-April.

I will leave you with this story. It is about a private in the Army who was with his unit on the French-German border during the Second World War. They were captured by the enemy and taken prisoner. Now one of them got away and ran for it, on running he found a bike so jumped on, cycled 50 yards down the road, went over the handle bars an ended up in a heap in the road and was re captured.

On re-joining his unit, one soldier said: “Wat wast tha deeing you daft feel thou should a peddled like a scoporill and getten away.” The private said: “Weel it warnt till ah gor on’t bike ah realised I ad nivver larnt te ride yan.”

Well, I just better tell you father is out of action at the moment, he has blown up his metal detector and he is suffering withdrawals but, never fear, grandad is mending it, which is worrying because the last time he dealt with electronics he put his penknife straight into a live socket and shot himself across the room, so if you’re in Kirkby and hear a ban, don’t worry it’s just them two.