This is Doric. Translated it is "What like." The question is, "How are you?"
Vowels are transformed in Doric. The word 'one' as in this one becomes 'ane'. "This ane is no guid."
After nine years of living here I am just about understanding the language.
"Fit are ye needing?"
What are you wanting?"
When I lived in Cornwall it didn't take me long to pick up the accent. And the odd word. But here, in the North East, I stick to listening and do not attempt to "spik it."
Ey gets put onto the end of many words. "Put in your cardy." Is followed by, "Now yer pin number." This after me frowning and wondering as I hadn't got a cardigan on, and if I had where was I to put it.
The language, as with so many 'foreign' languages has a lilt to it, it is tuneful. Unlike the English dialects. I am from Yorkshire and I can soon slip back into the broadness of the dialect. But it is a sharp one. Here, the words flow. Anyway enough of that.
This is Inverallochy, 3 miles up the road from where we live.
The posts are for drying washing and for drying, long ago, fishing nets.
Well established fishing communities were in place in the area by the early 16th century, but after an epidemic of cholera in the 1860s wiped out the "collections of huts next to which fishing boats were dragged out of reach of the tide", planned fishing settlements were recreated at Inverallochy and the twinned village Cairnbulg. As a result of this planning, within twenty years over 200 boats were based here, although in recent years this has dwindled back to almost none as larger, commercial operations became focused on the nearby ports of Fraserburgh and Peterhead.
I really must find ane.