Dialect Levelling

i love english language

Paul Kerswill


Dialect Levelling


Dialect levelling is a form of standardisation whereby local variations of speech lose their distinctive, regional features in favour of a more urban or mainstream dialect. This means that the speech forms of different parts of the country are becoming more similar over time and this results in a reduction of language  diversity.  There are several factors involved in dialect levelling:


•Geographical mobility results in greater dialect contact between commuters.

•Social mobility and consequent breakdown of tight knit working class communities.

•Increased interaction with people of other speech varieties.

•Children are less likely to adopt their parents’ pronunciation as they come under peer pressure to conform to the linguistic norm of the group. Adolescents take on a vital role in language change.

•Economic change lead to loss of rural employment and construction of suburbs and new towns.

•World Wars meant a change in roles…

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MIDWEEK BLUES. Yep, we all get them.

I haven’t posted for a while so here goes post number three.. Or is it four. You know, I really can’t remember and right now I really don’t fancy having a quick peek.

Sooooo, anyway, we’re one day down in the week and you’re all probably wondering what I could have come up with to talk to you about right at the start of the week. I mean, it’s hard enough to shake the feeling of the Monday Blues, right? Well, it’s hard for me anyway.

You know what I mean though, surely. I mustn’t be the only person who feels grouchy on a Monday morning, like a fixed permanent bad mood has been dumped onto my head, it’s poopy to be quite honest with you.

Well, to be honest the week looks a little like this:

Miserable Monday

Terrible Tuesday

Wahey it’s Wednesday (Still depressing)

‘Friday needs to hurry up’ Thursday



SPICY SUNDAY, but ah, monday is next…

Monday be like..


Anyway, here is some help to guide you through the week.

#1 Run into a store, ask what the year is and then yell: ‘IT WORKED! IT WORKED!’

#2 Wear a shirt that says life. Hand out lemons.

#3 Change your name to Simon. Speak in third person.

#4 Buy a parrot.

#5 Teach the parrot to say: ‘Help! I’ve been turned into a parrot’.

#6 Fill an empty jar of mayonnaise with vanilla custard and dip in chocolate.

#7 Offer it out to people, watch them squirm as they refuse and watch.

#8 Tell a random kid that you are from the future..

#9 Look at someone directly through a glass window and say: ‘wow.. I’m hideous!’

#10 When the money comes out of the ATM, scream: ‘I won, I won!!!’


#11 Say ding at each floor

#12 Meow occasionally

#13 When there is only one other person in the elevator tap them on the shoulder and pretend it wasn’t you.

#14 Whistle the first seven notes of ‘it’s a small world’ incessantly

#14 Make race car noises every time someone gets off the elevator

#15 Give Bible passages to each passenger.

#16 Ask each passenger getting on if you can push the button for them

#17 When arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open.

#18 Act embarrassed when they open automatically.

(for more elevator tricks visit: https://meyerweb.com/other/humor/elevator.html)


#19 In biology class, get everyone to put on aprons and goggles then when the teacher walks in the room act as though nothing is wrong.

#20 Wear handcuffs to class then arrive late saying: ‘Sorry, I had to break out of prison first’

#21 Get everyone to stare in one direction then when someone says shift look in another direction.

#22 Walk to the front of the class and fall. say someone tripped you.

#23 When the teacher asks a question get everyone to put their hands up and then say: ‘Oh, sorry I forgot’.

#24 Ask your teacher what he/she wanted to do in life instead of being a teacher.

#25 Ask the teacher of you can be excused. State the reason as you want to skip class.


#26 Leave a note on the teachers desk that says strange stuff like: ‘Don’t forget Tuesday’, ‘Have you checked the children for lice?’ or ‘did you water the orangutan yet?’.

I really hope these little tricks will brighten up your week, if you are daring enough to try them. Or brave enough to..

That’s it for now, stay tuned for some more.

Mils xoxo

Thursday Reflection…

Hey guys!

Okay, so it’s Thursday (duh), which means it’s a day closer to Friday (YAY!). Boy, has it been a long week. I hope I’m not the only one feeling that tomorrow couldn’t come sooner!

Today I wanted to talk to you about reading and writing, I just wanted to share my experience of it myself. (If you want to hear it that is)

This piece is something I did for creative writing but I feel like I want to share it with you guys out there!

Reading/Writing Experience

To me, reading is not just a hobby or something that I feel obliged to do. It’s my lifestyle. Every night before I settle down down for sleep my current book makes its reappearance. It’s been this way for as long as I can remember. I’ve always been passionate about reading, even as I was growing up (which was a bonus, considering my parents implemented an awesome rule which meant I read for 30 minutes before lights out). But it was never just 30 minutes, and the lights never really turned out. I would find anything that resembled a method of light, hide under my covers and continue my adventures, thinking of myself as a young bookworm. I would then awake in the morning, realising I would have to re-read the chapter I last remembered reading, due to a case of catching z’s on my book.


I started off my reading addiction at a young age by reading the works of Enid Blyton, Jacqueline Wilson, Darren Shan and a range of poetry books. Well, I hate to admit it, reading the first book in the Demonata series by Darren Shan gave me warped nightmares for quite a lengthy period of time. Needless to say I didn’t carry on with the series until I was some years older, where my taste for horror fiction developed.


The main factor that got me hooked on books was the way that the words transported me to to my own unique universe which was crafted by the book itself; the prologue lays the foundations while the ongoing chapters and characters brings the world to life. A collection of prismatic colours infiltrate my mind as the words begin to take a multidimensional form. When I’m reading, my mind is the subject – the book holds the control.


This is a common occurrence, it happens to me with all of my books. I’m continuously building the ultimate fictional reality where the worries that life holds just vanishes just as I immerse myself into the book. I become the characters, I become part of their world, their thoughts intertwined with mine.


Some would say that when it comes to taking care of a book, folding the papers edge of the book is a crime in itself, one my sister would happily find a fitting punishment for. Charlotte is a dedicated reader who is obsessed with protecting the exterior of books. So much so that she will go to extreme lengths to preserve them. Not bending the spine is one of them, it’s her absolute pet hate – which is excruciatingly annoying when it comes to borrowing her books. However I see it as an intimate experience, I’m leaving my personal touch on the book. It’s my own reader’s footprint. A folded corner here and there. The splintered spine after it’s been bent back a few times. It’s a sign that it has a purpose other than just sitting on a shelf, collecting a thick layer dust that an antique collector would be proud of. Once the mark has been made, the crease placed – it can’t be undone. It’s a scar, permanent and meaningful, carrying a story within its grooves.


My reading experience doesn’t just finish when the book closes. It continues around me. Walking the streets, I glimpse reflections of characters bought alive by the flickers in the eyes of strangers that pass. Fiction is awakened and bought into the real world, without the need of a paper instrument. No guidelines. No fictional limitations. It turns into a subjective reality, one that’s individual and unique. Instead of a street consumed by blank, void stares like many others would see, I see a thousand stories linking together in a way I can’t possibly decipher how, fuelling my mind with unlimited writing inspiration.


My preferable experience is reading, but I also indulge in creating my own pieces of written art. I’m enthralled by the way an alphabet that consists of 26 letters can devise works such as Great Expectations and King Lear. Even the feel of creating a piece by hand is a blissful experience, holding the pen, knowing I’m in control.


It’s the way the pen effortlessly glides across the paper, mastering the power that I bestow upon the pen, knowing that it has the power to transform a piece of paper into a masterpiece or a piece that will end up in a ball at the bottom of the recycling bin. As soon as I release the cap of the lid, a thousand ideas are unleashed into the realm of unwritten melodies, tirelessly waiting to be put to paper.


Finding the right pen is a challenge; I need to have a personal relationship with my weapon of creativity. The scratchy types are the worst as the grainy nib scrapes across the page, creating an intense ‘skreek’ as the friction builds up underneath. Absolutely abhorrent. This is the classic 33p Biro, the pens that teachers love dishing out to their students who have forgotten their pens, hiding a smirk as they grin at the battle their students will have to contend with for around an hour or so. Personally, a classic Papermate Inkjoy works its wonders for me. The ink cleanly glides across the page, leaving no trace of a gravelly path, but instead leaves a sophisticated trail of evenly distributed ink.


When starting to write a new piece, I have one law that I must abide by, otherwise nothing will make sense and the sound of failure will start to resonate throughout my work. Think, plan, write. Planning is the most important. I am able to channel my ideas and thoughts onto one page. Usually it ends up being a tangled mess, from which I sift out the relevant points, and the garbage that sometimes happens to spill out of some dead part of my brain. (Which I’m sure happens to all of us).


Although, after planning my focus can wander elsewhere – which means my procrastination level quadruples. An irritating rhythmic foot tap bursts into clamour, which leads to my thoughts wandering to my never ending Christmas list and then to thinking of unusual food combinations – usually trying to make new dishes like jelly and chips, or ice cream and burgers. Which is okay… if I’m writing a piece on a new food item. I probably shouldn’t lose my concentration as easily as I do, it can’t be healthy.


Denying to submit myself to actually write the piece never does me any favours anyway. The looming fears of the deadline intensify as it frantically draws nearer. Anxiety builds up as the pressure to create a compelling work of art increases. Meanwhile, a faint voice is calling to me to watch The Little Mermaid for the 44th time this week.


When my pen does eventually make it to the paper, a world of relentless fury opens up. The speed at which my pen scribbles across the page makes me question why the paper is still alive, why there isn’t booming plumes of smoke billowing from the words that I fire at the sheet. The deeper I get with my piece, the quicker my pace continues to escalate and my handwriting turns to an almost unreadable state.


When it comes to the finished product, I can never quite use the term ‘finished’. This would infer that I am pleased with my work, that I am content with my pages that are littered with the same 26 letters repeated in a skillful way, to make something sound ultimately artsy. This is not the case, for I never fully accept the value of my own work. How do you class a written piece as finished? Are there guidelines? A rule book? A specific number of drafts that must be completed before it is an acceptable piece of work? If that were the case, my work would be framed next to the Mona Lisa already. With the unending amount of drafts that I miraculously produce, I’m surprised that they haven’t sent me the bill for a hundred new trees to be planted in my honour. The original drafts usually end up finding their way to the recycling bin along with fifty others, knowing that they will never be good enough. They are just left to stew amongst other members of the recycling crew, knowing they will never be accepted and their words will never be heard. Silently screaming into the realm of unwritten melodies, silently knowing that they will be lost forever.

Ready, Steady… CRASH

Watch out, Mils is about.

I’ve finally started my driving lessons, something that has been on the cards for quite a while. Well… I was going to wait until after university, but they were a Christmas present from the father so I can’t pass up the opportunity!

Before the lesson I was so, so nervous. All I was doing was picturing scenarios in my head, pretty drastic ones at that. I know they wouldn’t happen, it was just the initial shock of actually driving a car. I mean, what if the car crashed? What if I cause a collision or i run someone over? It’s a bit drastic, but I over worry half the time.

Stepping into the car, my nerve levels were about medium to high (ish) – somewhere in the middle. Of course, I didn’t drive instantly. I had no clue what I was doing! The instructor talked me through the controls and safety checks. Putting me at ease as I got behind the wheel of the car, ready for him to describe the gears, wheel and the pedals along with the clutch. (I didn’t even know there was a clutch).

Honestly, if any of you are considering driving lessons, and you’re either nervous or scared to drive. You are will be PERFECTLY fine. I was practically shaking in the lead up to my first lesson, but by the end of the hour, I drove all the way home reaching 40mph. Okay, 40mph probably doesn’t sound a lot, but for someone who hasn’t driven before it’s a lot. If I can do, you can do it. Once you master the gears, you’re all set.

I can’t wait to see what my next lesson has in store for me! (Which is next Monday btw).

P.s. Stay tuned for next weeks run down xox

Snapshot of my Journey to Jesus to now🙏🏼❤

Hello guys!
It’s Mils here. For those of you who don’t know my actual name is Amelia, but I tend to go with Mils – blame Chloe for starting to call me Mildred which in turn got shortened to Mils. It’s real classy, right? I think so too. Anyway I wanted to switch things up a bit today and speak to you about something very different, but none the less A-MAZE-ING. It’s something that is very close to my heart and I want to share it with you so maybe you can understand it’s importance, not just to me but to the people involved and the wider community.
This is it, the big reveal …. Drum roll please … ‘LIVEWIRE’.
It doesn’t have much of a ring to it on paper to be honest. (*Inserts crying face emoji*).
Let me introduce a bit of background context for you. Livewire is my youth group that takes place every Friday night from six until nine. It is divided up into three parts: games, worship and the Word. You can probably already guess now that this is a Christian based group, and if you didn’t guess that then you probably need to sharpen up your inference skills. Especially if you’re an English student like me. Inference is key for literature so there’s a heads up for you guys out there who want to study it (or are studying it).
I started in Livewire on 11th December 2015. So this year I will have been there for two years. I can honestly say that the person talking to you today is totally different to the person from two years ago.
Before I had started to attend Livewire, I had got into some sticky situations where I had no idea how to escape from. I had isolated myself, built barriers between myself and the rest of the world. Apart from the one person who was keeping me there, who was feeding my isolation. (For the purposes of the blog, I have changed the name of the perpetrator to Alex).
He was my boyfriend of two and a half years (ish – without counting the numerous breakups and getting back together). Either way, he ended up doing the dirty on me with my best friend at the time and let me tell you, that’s not the best thing in the world. The two people I had completely trusted had betrayed me. It stung. For a long time. I cut myself off from everyone, thinking I couldn’t trust anyone else.

Frightened that the same thing would happen again if I let people get close enough. The break up happened around March 2015 (right on top of my GCSEs) which left a neat nine month gap between when I started Livewire and the break up.
It was between that period that I distanced myself, I found talking to people a struggle. Have you ever been in a situation where the conversation just becomes awkward? I felt like I was the perpetrator of the ‘awkward’ comments. The comments that shut down all conversation. Or I’d just focus on myself and bore everyone to death. Sometimes I even thought I saw tears of boredom threatening to roll down some people’s cheeks. I was miserable.
It was then in September when I started a new college that I met my now best friend, Chloe. I’d known her all through secondary School, but we were never really that close. Well, I didn’t class us as being that close at the time. She took me under her wing and the trust began to grow between us, something I had given up on a long time ago. December came, and she invited me to her youth night – Livewire. At that point, I had no idea what it was, I just knew they did some games, hung out and drank hot chocolate.
Entering into the church, I automatically felt different. There was a certain atmosphere, and i couldn’t put my finger on it. It was different, enlightening almost. I knew I would be accepted here, there was a sense of friendship and connectivity in the air. Okay, most of the night I stayed with my sister, but it was the start of an exhilarating journey that two years on, I still haven’t finished. It will never be finished.
A few months on, I had put my name down for the 2016 leadership boot camp which is a weekend away where you are intensely trained in leadership. Let me just tell you, I do not fancy the two hour practical session in the cold, mid-November rain again. I wasn’t expecting for my Youth Pastor to accept me onto it, I mean I had only been there at that point for about four or five months – but he did. It was such a shock and I was extremely grateful for him giving me that opportunity.
However, before Young Lions, there was Resolution ‘16: Courageous. The annual youth camp and I was able to be a part of it and attend. Livewire and a youth group called Revive Hounslow from London join together and spend a week together in Cefn Lea, Mid Wales. The journey is the scariest part of the trip – especially the roads labelled as ‘death roads’. Not fun.
Camp was some week. I’d never experienced a holiday like it! The days were packed full of activities. From around 7am to 11:30 in the evening for five whole solid days. It was relentless, but so worth it. The average day consisted of breakfast, games session, morning meeting (worship and the Word), the main activity, lunch, another activity, dinner, free time, evening game session, more worship and another Word and then a late night seminar which was optional, but why miss out?
After the week at camp, Livewire remained as usual – every Friday night six until nine pm as usual. Then Young Lions came along. (The leadership programme). At this point I had started another school, doing the tedious job of A Levels which I’m currently nearly half way through. It was a tiresome weekend. Spiritually and physically. Being made to run with a sack of potatoes forwards and backwards is a hard job. I’m not just talking about a big sack of potatoes either. These potatoes were large, heavy and I could swear they were alive, the way they were wriggling around in the sack had started to worry me. Our spiritual gifts were also tested. The power of prophecy was a challenge. But did I let worry of failure defeat me? Ha, nope. It was a struggle, but with persistence and faith I pulled through and delivered words of wisdom and power to my friends in my coaching group. There was four of us, yet after that weekend I felt as though we had known each other for years! I honestly cannot wait to see them again this year, ready for year two!
This brings me to where I am now. A few months on, the youth pastor accepted me onto the team. January 2017 was my official welcome. I was an official ‘Potential Leader’ of Livewire! I had worked so hard during Livewire to obtain this place and I had achieved it. My high energy levels and my growth in confidence had paid off. We were assigned Livewire t-shirts, hoodies, and then badges that had our names on. Words can’t describe the joy this position brings me. To be able to help guide the youth into greater things. To help them with the everyday struggles they face and to just lead them to a place where they know they are safe.

I am now in the meetings for planning this year’s youth camp, and I can already sense it’s going to be another thrilling week. Also, my first Word (speech to the youth on a topic relevant to their lives with the power of God) is in a week’s time which I am so grateful for Dave (youth pastor) to have granted me this opportunity.
It’s crazy how things have turned around from about a year and a half ago. Crazy how much can change within a couple of years. It’s possible. You can go from an emotional wreck to a changed, powerful, individual leader. Leader of your own life and others.
I can proudly say that this change all started when I chose to give my life to God on 11th December 2015.
God is good all the time. And all the time God is good. (Little reference to God’s Not Dead for ya. Cracking film, I definitely recommend you watch it!).

Hey ya’ll✌🏻

Just a quick hello to those souls out there who are fortunately (or unfortunately??) reading my first tiny tiny excerpt of my blog!

I’m not American, just to clear that up. I just thought ‘ya’ll’ sounded catchy, y’know?? Although, many people say that I do sound American. Well, only one person. This guy at work. But that’s a different story, not one for now anyway. Stay tuned and maybe, just maybe you’ll hear some more about it… I’m just an 18 year old girl who has decided it would be a fun idea to start up a blog.

Anyway, since this is my first post, I should probably tell you a little bit about myself. Not too much though, I want a slow, dramatic and intense reveal throughout my forthcoming blogs. Revealing too much at once is a crime. Got to leave you in suspense right?

Let’s get the most important part out first… I am a Christian. I feel like I just lost some of  you readers right now, but trust me when I tell you that I’m not the stereotypical nun. I’m just a person, like you! Difference is I believe in a guy who can change lives, guide me in my steps towards my purpose and be my ultimate rock, father and friend. It’s fab!

I’m not perfect. Far from it actually. As you’ll find out over my next few posts. I try my best, like all you guys out there. Rolling along the waves, battling each crash and storm that comes my way. I don’t want to make out as though that’s easy, because it’s not. We all know that some storms can take a big ol’ battering to defeat and many of us get swamped by them, and never actually come out of the other side of them. (Now I feel like I’m in preach mode, forgive me please).

But yeah, that’s a central part of me. Other than that, I genuinely love life.

What’s more – I’m a MASSIVE lover of cookies. I worry for people who aren’t! Especially Subway cookies. Dayum, they are LUSH. I’m actually hungry for one now. Why do I talk about cookies so much. Especially when I’m broke. #Broke24/7

Stay tuned for some hopefully interesting blogs about food, more food, probably God and yeah more food. Oh – and the life of Mils (that’s me in case you didn’t know).

Im just pursuing life, one cookie at a time.🤘🏻