|
Viewing 1 - 9 out of 16 Blogs.
Page:
1 |
|
Night Mail This is the Night Mail crossing the border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner and the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient's against her, but she's on time.
Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses. Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from the bushes at her blank-faced coaches.
Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in the bedroom gently shakes. Dawn freshens, the climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends
Towards the steam tugs yelping down the glade of cranes,
Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces
Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen.
All Scotland waits for her:
In the dark glens, beside the pale-green sea lochs
Men long for news. Letters of thanks, letters from banks,
Letters of joy from the girl and the boy,
Receipted bills and invitations
To inspect new stock or visit relations,
And applications for situations
And timid lovers' declarations
And gossip, gossip from all the nations,
News circumstantial, news financial,
Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in,
Letters with faces scrawled in the margin,
Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Scotland from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Notes from overseas to Hebrides
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The chatty, the catty, the boring, adoring,
The cold and official and the heart's outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong. Thousands are still asleep
Dreaming of terrifying monsters,
Or of friendly tea beside the band at Cranston's or Crawford's:
Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
They continue their dreams,
And shall wake soon and long for letters,
And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
Tags: A Dash Of Auden
Auld Lang Syne a Christmas & New year poem by Robert Burns Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wandered mony a weary fit
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidled i' the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
And there's a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
Tags: Burns The Poet
Women and red haired people are considered unlucky first footers, as is a person who first foots empty handed with no gift. Such a person will bring bad luck to the household for the rest of the year. Scottish hospitality means that the unlucky first footer cannot be turned away and must come in for some refreshment. Some households overcome this bad luck by asking the person to throw salt on an open fire if they have one or placing a piece of burning straw up the chimney. Roman Catholics will cross themselves if an unlucky first footer arrives at their house. Others make a cross from Rowan twigs and place this at their front door. If an unlucky first footer arrives they touch this twig cross three times saying the name of their God each time before the first footer speaks. This might sound daft in modern times but Scots have always been superstitious and do not want to suffer 12 months bad luck until the next first footer arrives. Other unlucky first footers include Doctors, a Minister, thieves, a grave digger, someone born with a handicap, a flat footed person and someone whose eyebrows meet in the middle. This may seem politically incorrect but these hark back to the days before PC and are written here for historic interest.
Tags: Scottish Myths On Hogmanay
Dear Americans
(I hope nobody is offended by this, it is a joke after all) 
To the citizens of the United States of America...
In the light of your failure to elect a proper President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today.
Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all States, Commonwealths and other territories. (Except Utah, which she does not fancy). Your new Prime Minister (The Right Honourable Gordon Brown MP, for the 97.85% of you who have until now been unaware that there is a world outside your borders) will appoint a Minister for America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire will be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed. To aid the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect :
1. You should look up "revocation" in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then look up "aluminium". Check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it. The letter "U" will be reinstated in words such as "favour" and "neighbour", skipping the letter "U" is nothing more than laziness on your part. Likewise, you will learn to spell "doughnut" without skipping half the letters. You will end your love affair with the letter "Z" (pronounced "zed" not "zee"). You will learn that the suffix "burgh" is pronounced "burra" e.g Edinburgh. You are welcome to respell Pittsburgh as "Pittsberg" if you can't cope with correct pronunciation. Generally, you should raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. Look up "vocabulary". Using the same twenty seven words interspersed with filler noises such as "like" and "you know" is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. Look up "interspersed". There will be no more "bleeps" in the Jerry Springer Show. If you're not old enough to cope with bad language then you shouldn't have chat shows. When you learn to develop your vocabulary then you won't have to use bad language as often.
2. There is no such thing as "US English". We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter "U".
3. You should learn to distinquish the English and Australian accents. It really isn't that hard. English accents are not limited to Cockney, upper class twit, Scouse or Mancunian . You will also have to learn how to understand regional accents- Scottish dramas such as "Taggart", will no longer be broadcast with sub-titles. While we're talking about regions, you must learn that there is no such place as Devonshire in England. The name of the county is "Devon". If you persist in calling it Devonshire, all American States will become "Shires" e.g Texasshire, Floridashire, Loisianashire etc, etc
4. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast British actors as the good guys. Hollywood will be required to cast English actors to play English characters. British sit-coms such as "Little Britain" or "Men Behaving Badly" will not be re-cast and watered down for a wishy-washy American audience who can't cope with the humour of occasional political incorrectness.
5. You should relearn your original National Anthem, "God Save The Queen", but only after fully carrying out task 1. We would not want you to get confused half way through. 
6. You should stop playing American "football". There is only one kind of football. What you refer to as American "football" is not a very good game. The 2.5% of you who are aware that there is a world outside your borders may have noticed that no one else plays "American" football. You will no longer be allowed to play it, and should instead play proper football. Initially, it would be best if you played with the girls. It is a difficult game. Those of you brave enough, will, in time, be allowed to play Rugby (which is similar to American "football", but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like nancies). We are hoping to get together at least a US rugby sevens side by 2012. You should stop playing Baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called "The World Series" for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.15% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable.. Instead of Baseball, you will be allowed to play a girls game called "Rounders", which is Baseball without fancy team strips, oversize gloves, collector cards or hotdogs.
7. You should declare war on Quebec and France, using nuclear weapons if they give you any merde. The 97.85% of you who were not aware that there is a world ouside your borders should count yourselves lucky. The Russians have never been the bad guys. "Merde" is French for "Shit". You will no longer be allowed to own or carry guns. You will no longer be able to own or carry anything more dangerous than a potato peeler. Because we don't believe you are sensible enough to handle potentially dangerous items, you will require a permit if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.
8. July 4th is no longer a public holiday. November 4th will be a new national holiday, but only in England. It will be called "Indecisive Day".
9. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and it is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean. All road intersections will be replaced with roundabouts. You will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.
10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French Fries are not real chips. Fries aren't even French, they are Belgian, though 97.85% of you (including the guy who discovered fries while in Europe) are not aware of a country called Belgium. Those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called "crisps". Real chips are thick cut and fried in animal fat. The traditional accompanimant to chips is beer which should be served warm and flat. Waitresses will be trained to be more aggressive towards customers.
11. As a sign of penance 5 grammes of sea salt per cup will be added to all tea made within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, this quantity to be doubled for tea made within the city of Boston itself.
12. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all, it is lager. From November the 14th only proper British Bitter will be referred to as "beer", and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as "Lager".
The substances formerly known as "American beer" will henceforth be referred to as "Near Frozen Gnats' Urine", with the exception of the product of the American Budweiser company whose product will be referred to as "Weak Near Frozen Gnats' Urine". This will allow true Budweiser (as manufactured for the last 1000 years in Pilsen, Czech Republic) to be sold without risk of confusion.
13. From December the 1st the UK will harmonise petrol (or "Gasoline" as you will be permitted to keep calling until April 1st 2009) prices with the former USA. The UK will harmonise its prices to those of the former USA and the former USA will, in return , adopt UK petrol prices roughly $7 / US Gallon, get used to it.
14. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independant. Guns should only be handled by adults. If you are not adult enough to sort things out without sueing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.
15. Please tell us who killed JFK, its been driving us crazy.
Tax collectors from her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all revenues due (backdated to 1776)
If you've read this far, you're probably British 
Tags: Joke
It is a few years since I moved from England to Scotland. Initially to the town where a quarter of a millenia ago a famous Scottish poet wrote most of his best stuff. Then onto the dream move, a wooden shack on the edge of a forest, with only the Red Squirrells and Deer for neighbours. I couldn't believe I was actually going to live in this idylic location, if you've ever read Captain Marryat's "The Children of the New Forest" you'll know what I mean, I was in seventh heaven.
One of the drawbacks of living in such a remote place was the school being seven miles away, do they expect me to walk or cycle that everyday, thankfully not as it turned out. I only had to walk a mile or so and jump on a thing called a Schoolbus. This turns out to be a bit of a revelation, being very old and no expense being spared on its interior, NOT !!. I could sit over the back wheel arch and watch the road whiz by below, and there was a distinct whiff of diesel fumes as well. By the time I arrived at school I was seeing pink elephants. Also to accommodate extra passengers a long slim wooden bench was placed down the centre of the bus, woe betide anyone who sat on it, whenever the driver applied the brakes in haste, anyone unfortunate to be straddled across it would shoot forward and end up with a gear lever up their 'arris, much to everyones amusement, cruel buggers ain't we.
Anyway, I digress, this is a ditty to my prickly wee chums the Hedgehog. Now if you don't have these delightful little creatures in your country they are basically grapefruit size balls of prickles or spines with four tiny legs at each corner and a long snout.They are seldom seen during the day, being nocturnal and devoid of fur they are affected by temperature so have to spend the winter months in hibernation, sensible little chaps. Having being given the short straw in the leg department they are not particulary fleet of foot, so as evolution evolved they gradually developed what they thought was a sure fire winner of a defence mechanism. On an encounter with a predator it will curl itself up into a ball and re-adjust its spines for maximum effect, and yes, if the kiddies find one they do play football with it. This saves it from any predators, the downside being it has to stay curled up until the danger has gone.
Unfortunately it never foresaw the invention of the automobile, on hearing one coming it stops in its tracks, curls itself into its ball in the misguided belief this will save it. A little ball of prickles versus a two ton truck, yep, my money is on the truck.
Now then, back to the schoolbus. I couldn't believe the carnage I was witnessing every day on it. There would be 'hogs splattered by the score across the road ahead. Some partially squashed, some barely marked, others looking like they had been dropped from a great height, flat as pancakes with their tiny legs spreadeagled out at each corner. Some with their entrails clearly seen spewed across the road, others neatly cleaned up by the crows, these were the ones that made ideal slippers. No one seemed to bat an eyelid at this carnage ahead, it was as though it was a normal occurence. I mean, the'hogs would have families, their despair and grief at losing so many loved ones must be gutwrenching, excuse the pun. I mean , whoever is running them over is equipped with a vehicle with lights and surely it must be fairly easy to avoid them you would think, obviously not.
As the years have gone by the carnage has decreased markedly, but why ? I even learned to drive myself and to this day cannot recall running a single 'hog over, usually managing to skirt around them or let them pass harmlessly underneath . Nowadays you will be lucky to spot one roadkill 'hog a month, you actually see more foxes and badgers at the side of the road now, which you never did back then. So have we virtually exterminated them through roadkill, or have cars evolved with better lights and drivers,doubt it. Have the 'hogs started to attend road safety classes, taught all the young uns when crossing the road the best plan is to run like the clappers and don't stop for anything. I still find them in the garden, well, the dog does really, coming back in with a new set of three inch whiskers, a dead giveaway that one. Sometimes I will find one and help it on its way, away from the roads. Even putting one in my van one night, only to return in the morning to find it gone. How could it escape ? I mean a van is basically a metal box with four walls, there is no way out, unless they have the attributes of a spider and can climb walls and disappear through the air vents. Eventually I spotted two square holes at the side of the van near the floor, I peered down one and yep, there it was, about a foot down, in its usual curled up state, stuck solid in the box chassis. I knew I had to get it out of there, not only for the 'hogs sake, but for mine as well. The stench would have been intolerable if it had died down there. Getting it out proved to be more difficult than I first thought. First I used pliers to try and pull it out by the spines, but they just kept pulling out like a pin in a pin cushion, I was ending up with a bald 'hog. Then I found some of them plastic builders gloves and thrust my arm down the hole, but it was in such a tight spot I couldn't get my hand under it. In the end I had to force my hand under it hurting it in the process and this is the only time I have ever heard a 'hog speak, unfortunately it wasn't English. I slowly lifted it up the channel and out it popped through the hole like a cork in a bottle. Off I went to work and let it go in the field opposite. An hour or so later I returned to see how it was getting on, but it had gone, phew, another one saved, all was well.
And now we have another calamity awaiting my prickly little chums, November the Fifth. This is where we build huge bonfires to celebrate the failure of someone centuries ago to blow the Houses of Parliament up. Unfortunately this coincides at the same time the 'hogs are searching out a cosy place to hibernate for the winter. Many find their way into these bonfires and come the big night many a 'hog has met its demise.
So there you have it, the plight of the Great British Hedgehog, don't make good reading does it, and I haven't even mentioned the Gypsies
Tags: 'Tis A Cruel World
Tonight I will mainly be 'aving.....
Cold sheep with a carrot and wood blewits and hedgehog fungi from my back garden
Tags: TFS
Tonight I will mainly be 'aving.....
Sausage & Mash!!!
Tomorrow I will mainly be 'aving.....
Yorkshire Puddings Followed By Sheep, Mash & a Veggie!!! (Where I'll find the vegetarian I do not know)
Tags: TFS
Tonight I will mainly be 'aving.....
Herrings !!
Tags: TFS
Don't know whether you have experienced this or not, but on visiting a friends or relatives house you suddenly get the urge to do a number two.
So off you trot to find the little boys room & duly plonk yourself down on the throne. During the process you begin to realise it's quite a substantial one & you stand and peer down on your creation in the bowl below. You gaze in amazement at the monster you have deposited and wonder whether it's going to be a beached whale or a slippery eel.
So with a quick wipe of the derriere the paper is duly deposited on top of it. Now for the moment of truth, cross fingers, pull the chain and hope for a quick despatch. All is well for the first couple of seconds & then disaster, the bowl slowly starts to fill with water, " Houston, we have a problem", will it overflow, but it never does, does it, must be in the design that. Then, all of a sudden the water crashes through the "U" bend gurgerling as it goes and I still see the monster I have created in all its glory, then the water starts to fill the "U" bend again, from where it comes I do not know, one of lifes mysteries that one.
A cold sweat now descends upon my brow, panic ensues, I can't leave this monster behind for all & sundry to see, they'll think I'm abnormal, the turd must die.
I then look around the room for inspiration and spot a row of toothbrushes above the sink, ideal I think, I'll stab the turd to death with one. "Zut Alores !" , the turd refuses to yield, it has the constituency of plasticine & the toothbrush has no effect on it. I then spot a loo brush in the corner & think, that'll do it. I quickly return the toothbrush to the holder & grab the loo brush, I ponder on which end to attack the turd with, I decide to be brave and stab it with the handle end, meaning I have to clasp it by the bristles. I just hope someone's cleaned them thoroughly beforehand.
I then start manically thrusting the brush into the turd, with my left arm in the air, alla D'Artignon style from The Three Musketeers. Slowly it starts to disintegrate much to my relief. I flush the chain once again, but nope, it's still there. More thrusts with the loo brush are required, but this time I swop ends and use the brush end, forgetting where the other end has just been. It's much wider & the poo starts to fly everywhere and as I hear the water ending its fill again I pull the chain again, hey presto ! the turd is no more. All that remains is a chocolatie brown smear where it had once lain, so a quick brush round and all is good.
By this time my hosts are starting to wonder what all the commotion is coming from their bathroom and decide to knock on the door to see if I'm okay "are you alright in their" they say, I freeze and stop dead in my tracks and reply "yeah, just decided to floss my teeth", "oh, okay then" came the reply "just shout if you need anything". Why do they always say that, as if I would need anything, Dynarod perhaps, but nothing else.
I then vacate the bathroom, a deep shade of crimson with sweat pouring from my brow with my hosts wondering what the hell I'd been up to.
Whoever owns the toothbrush is going to jump to the wrong conclusion.
Tags: Embarassing Situations
Page:
1 |
|
|
