Showing posts from November, 2010

Snow Problem? - 'S No Problem.............

Between snow-showers today
Hullo ma wee blog,

Well, the snow is continuing to fall, our friend's flights to The Canary Islands have been cancelled and it may be several days before they can get an alternative, all schools are closed, there are no trains running on the East Coast line today and the main A1 from here to Edinburgh is blocked. So our friends are therefore trapped in Edinburgh for who knows how long.

 All across Scotland it seems that chaos is King.

The impeccable 'Calvin and Hobbes'
 The Lovely G and I have an extra day together and the house is warm. We renewed our supplies of wild bird food yesterday so the local bird population that has come to rely on us is being well catered for and have been entertaining us with their antics this morning. Nothing else for it but to make the most of the day. A spot of peaceful and perhaps reflective soup making is on the agenda for this afternoon.

I found this on You Tube this morning. It's appropriate for the weather.

A Snowy Saturday........

Outside the front door this morning.
Hullo ma wee blog,

I'm sitting at the kitchen table as usual and it's late on Saturday night. My Lovely G left me hours ago and is now fast asleep and snug in bed while I am slowly getting to the stage of cold between the shoulder blades that means that I am far too cold for comfort and also means that when I do eventually go to bed, that I'd better stay away from that aforementioned warm and snug flesh that will be lying temptingly beside me otherwise instant and severe retribution will descend upon my person.

Strange how several things go wrong at the same time. Although this week I, at last, got my car back from the repairers with a shiny new front bumper and skirt { they valeted the whole car so it looks a lot better than when it went in.} back home at the house though it seems like if anything could go wrong, it would this week. Firstly our built in microwave oven packed in, then the proper oven underneath and the next day our dish…

Is the Devil in The Detail?.........

Hullo ma wee blog,

Did you ever think that by helping someone not commit a crime you could be convicted of a crime yourself?

Probably not. It does sound daft, doesn't it?

But in Scotland you could be.

Last week the Holyrood committee scrutinising Margo MacDonald MSP's 'End of Life Assistance Bill' concluded that it, "does not recommend the general principles of the Bill to the Parliament.", on the voice of the majority of its members. Currently under Scots law - which is separate and completely independent of the rest of the UK  - the situation is;

"... if a first person assisted a second person – thereby acting in concert – to take that second person’s own life, or attempted to do so, the first person would be dealt with under the law of homicide".

Now, the conundrum for me here is this. If, as above, helping someone to commit suicide - and lets leave all the arguments around this to one side for a second - as suicide is not an illegal act in the …

Forever Autumn........

Hullo ma wee blog,

Sitting at the computer sorting out some photo's and listening to some music - which I thought I'd share. It's a grand track but the accompanying video is a bit twee.

Worth a listen tho' and I do love this time of year. Sometimes I wish it could be 'forever Autumn'.

see you later.

Visitors and Virtual Friends

Hullo ma wee blog,

I've been off-line most of this week while my laptop has been away getting repaired and so, now that it's back, this is the first post for a while that takes place at my normal typing speed and not in a stuttering, cursing under my breath thump, thump, thump on the keyboard trying to get sticking keys to work kind of way. It feels like a new me to be honest......

The lovely G did offer me the use of her laptop while mine was away at the repair geek shop but although I did try, and used it to post any comments I've made to blogs this week, somehow it just didn't feel right and perhaps as a result I have been lacking any kind of inspiration for a post. That sad state of affairs - and missing my own laptop - actually made me feel quite down, which is disturbing in its own way, and I was glad that my week had been busy with Children's Hearings and the like. {the 'like'  included crashing the garage courtesy car that I have while my own car i…


Keith Douglas was a war poet, killed in WWII serving in a tank regiment aged just 24. He's much less well known than Wilfred Owen or Seigfried Sassoon, those greats of WWI war poetry, but deserves to be much better known.

This excerpt fits well with remembrance Sunday.

From his poem 'How To Kill'

Now in my dial of glass appears
the soldier who is going to die.
He smiles, and moves about in ways
his mother knows, habits of his.
The wires touch his face: I cry
Now. Death, like a familiar, hears
and look, has made a man of dust
of a man of flesh.

The Fox And The Car In The Night..........

Hullo ma wee blog,

I never saw the fox until it was too late. I barely just had time to register its shadowy profile and the bushy tail flowing straight out behind in the headlights before impact. Although I hit the brakes hard I knew as I saw it that there was no way I could avoid hitting it. I hit it full on and, being on motorway at the time, was doing about 75 miles an hour. It never stood a chance and probably died instantly. If by some chance it survived it was finished off by the car following close behind on that busy Saturday night, but I'm pretty sure I killed it outright.

I've never hit an animal like that before. In thirty odd years of driving I could count how many small things I have hit on the fingers of one hand. It's always been a phobia of animal loving me, perhaps from childhood memories of a rare pheasant or even once a hare that dad killed while driving. Dad would always stop and check if the animal was injured and I remember once seeing him dispatch …


In memory of the fallen, the departed and any who continue to suffer the effect of war.

Sam Robertson Royal Scots Fusiliers 1915- 1918 Gallipoli and France.
Thomas Hughes Royal Flying Corps 1914 - 1918 France
Sam Robertson 153 Sqdn RAF Bomber Command  1944-1945.
Bill Robertson Fleet Air Arm 1944-1945.

Never Forgotten.

Hermitage Castle

The valleys of the border hills here have names which trip softly from the tongue and somehow manage to evoke a more idyllic and benign picture than they should of places so remote; Eskdale and Annandale, Liddesdale and Teviotdale, Lauderdale and Tweeddale. These places sound lovely but if they could talk they would tell tales of daring, heartbreak and hopelessness and you can sometimes feel it still as you drive through a border valley shadowed with hills dotted thickly with sheep, or down the side of a rushing river under a scabbard-grey sky. It can be beautiful and at the same time oppressing in its very beauty. It's a strange, fascinating and wonderful place.

These border lands of Scotland are thick with castles. Some have grown from humble beginnings into huge and ornate stately homes for the aristocracy while others have withered and died to become roofless ruins open to the skies, choked with ivy and left mouldering in forgotten corners; a fragment or a wall standing proud…