Sunday was Father's Day here in NZ.
Sunday also produced some of the best weather so far this year. It was warm, bluedome sky, light breeze; perfect for the flying of small model aircraft.
Many of the other members of the club thought so as well. As a result there were an unheard of 14 cars parked along the fence at the top of our modest flying field (many thanks to the Butcher family for persistently putting up with this rather odd group of aging men who enjoy doing strange things in the middle of a cow paddock.
Among those I met and talked with was Rubber-band Ron. He is a delightful chap. Has about seven years on me, and has not been in particularly good health for the past ten or so years. He was enjoying the sun and fresh air sitting with the car door open. I sat and nattered with him for about an hour, topics ranging from family history, WW2 aircraft, modelling, and words.
One of the drugs I take is a diuretic to stop me from retaining water in outlying regions of the probligo anatomy. That requires the occasional departure behind a bush watching out for electric fences, the short-drop at the far end of the field, in general terms the khazi. Ron flicked up at this and we spent some time swapping some of the more esoteric of kiwi slang and their likely etymology.
Many came back to NZ after the wars, and particularly the 2EF from Egypt. Ron felt that that might have been the origin of khazi, as had some of the others we went through like bint and wally. I looked up khazi in some of the on-line dictionaries and while there is no question about the meaning, some of the origins were distinctly off-beam. Like from Italian "casa" or "case". No, sorry, I don't think that likely.
Most likely was from Urdu. Which takes the word to England during the 19th century...
And so it goes.
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We had a dog that would dig under the fence until we installed a wire around the back yard. The dog learned real quick not to lift a leg any where near the fence; yikes! It took a couple of times, the yelp and run was instantaneous; almost comical since the dog was a low squat of a mutt.
Watch out for low flying aircraft while in the bushes.
Know a sheepdog or two who had to learn the same painful lesson.
I think it would be fun to listen in on a conversation like that. You should post a video on YouTube.
Let me know when you do.
;) OK Al. Next time I go out to the favourite cow paddock I'll take a video camera (that I do not own) and all the recording gear (that I don't own either) with me in the hope that something crops up.
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