Tuesday, March 19, 2024

Bravado

 

The rumble of RAF fighters rolls across the estuary from the air base. This level of activity is a sign that the Russians must be creating some form of mischief out towards Norway. Two large oil supply ships are moored in the bay. They're close enough for us to be able to see the crew scurrying around on deck. From the wind and scudding clouds I'd assume that they're sheltering from 'challenging' conditions out on the deep waters.

The rangers busy at work on the beach. Rain or shine the rangers are always at work on the beach.


Dogs and dog walkers navigate a tractor busily scooping up sand and piling it on the foredunes. The fences knocked down in last weeks storms have been put up again. Thankfully, no more dead porpoise.


On the beach below the castle a group of students. The alpha males amongst them go for an impromptu swim in the sea water pool. A group of a dozen or so young ladies look on. They seem unimpressed. There is much bravado driven hollering. What seemed like a good idea  is considered less so when the alpha males emerge from the water and face the North Sea wind. They are then left with the post swim logistics of changing out of wet boxer shorts and into their dry clothes on a windswept beach. If only they had brought towels.


Wild primroses appearing on the cliff tops. Now that's a sure sign Spring is here... or at least on the way.


Two horses standing by the fountain in the middle of town. One rider goes into Costa Coffee for a couple of lattes while the other stands outside and talks to her charges. The horses seem to be enjoying themselves. 

So starts one of those quiet days when nothing much happens apart from people getting on with the routine of their lives.


The worlds smallest dishwasher :https://lochelectronics.com/

Would you order this as an Easter treat ? :https://chaudun.com/en/eboutique/sculpture-and-molds/labrador-2/



Monday, March 18, 2024

A metaphysical disagreement.

 

The policeman is due in the village this morning to examine the four bronze age burial sites that the farmer uncovered over the weekend. Usually the farmer ploughs the sandy soil on the shore to a depth of 30 centimetres but he's been using a new, heavier,  tractor and has been ploughing to a depth of 50 centimetres. This has been enough to unearth these newly discovered graves.  The farmer has a meeting with his potato wholesaler in the local market town so I've promised to be around mid-morning to show the policeman the 'evidence'.


The shopping street springing into life. Daffodils brightening up a bike outside the delicatessen. One of the houses on the street by the cathedral has been having a make over. With the building work completed the owner is now turning her attention to the garden and asking neighbours for suggestions of what grows well. A sign has been taped to the front wall and votes ( in black tape ) cast. Lavender and peonies seem to be the clear winners. 


In half an hour the students will be up and about and the grass outside chapel will be covered with latte drinking teens. For the time being we have the place to ourselves.


That time of the year when gardens and gardening are foremost in peoples minds. Successful vegetable growing courses in the Botanic Gardens a sure sign that warmer weather is here.


The street that runs down to the library is a conduit for late running students . It is usually best avoided . At this time of the morning it's deserted. What a pretty little street it is. 


We stop off at the butchers for some steak. We've cut down red meat to once or twice a month. We'd thought, when living in France, that French beef was the best. Now we're back in Scotland we'd have to say that our local steak has the edge. A sheepdog waits, impatiently, on the street outside.


A sign on a door says ' This is not a door'. It clearly is a door. The sign should really say ' This door is not in use '. I wonder how long it will be before someone from the Metaphysics department posts a rebuttal ?


$100 in rents equals a 9% rise in homelessness :https://lucagattonicelli.substack.com/p/sros-and-boarding-houses-are-more

And staying with housing New Zealand can surprise :https://thespinoff.co.nz/politics/15-03-2024/housing-wins-the-war


Sunday, March 17, 2024

He's convinced it's climate change.

 

There comes a point in the year when the switched is turned and Scotland moves from being a place of long nights and chill winds into a place of endless light ... and chill winds. We're there. The first morning since last October we can venture out in a semblance of warmth.


The farmer has been ploughing the field by the old gun emplacement. He's using a larger and heavier tractor than usual and has unearthed four more bronze age burials. The police will be here tomorrow to ensure that the skeletons are 'old' rather than evidence of a more recent crime. The farmer has collected up some bones and put them in a plastic Tupperware dish on the dashboard of the tractor. He stops to tell us about his discovery and show us his finds. Angus could do without seeing fibulas before breakfast ... bronze age or not. The farmer tells us that we've had 29% more rainfall than usual since the start of December. He's convinced it's climate change. 

Town, in the weak sunshine,  looking almost continental


Hot Cross Buns in the bakers window. There's a queue of students - all American girls heading home after a long Saturday night  - waiting to buy them. Are Hot Cross Buns not a thing in the US ?


French pastry makers could only weep if faced with the bakers Easter special. Time to pre-order now.  Angus thinks an Easter egg with a fudge doughnut hidden inside is  wonderful . 'The Font' doesn't. Fudge and chocolate. What's not to like? Could anything summon up Scottish cuisine so succinctly ?


Three books to be read this week. A book by Marilynne Robinson that I'm told has some of the most beautiful prose written this century and a thicker volume written by the two speakers at Tuesday nights presentation. I should have read this before our dinner but better late than never.


This book by Tim Alberta may ( hopefully ) help a confused European understand what's going on in America.


Playing on the radio as we head back home  in the car :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EsyGQYnvkMc

Glasgow made wall coverings with a difference:https://www.timorousbeasties.com/


Saturday, March 16, 2024

In between downpours.

 

Wet and miserable but sunshine is forecast for later this morning. A few drenched dogs and their owners use gaps in the rain to venture out onto the grass by the bandstand.


The sea below the catholic church looking most unwelcoming. Two seals are having fun bobbing up and down in the waves. The fulmars, who nest in crevices in the cliffs, have sensibly opted to opt out of flying in these winds.


After closing during Covid the old hotel by the Chaplaincy is being converted into six 'luxury' flats. Since we walked past yesterday the building has been wrapped in a series of metal bands. This seems rather high tech for these parts.  I wonder if the small family run hotel next door is prepared for their neighbours heavy construction work.


That time of the year when teenagers receive their exam results. Groups of hopefuls ( some with parents ) having guided tours of the town - this takes all of forty five minutes. Difficult to believe that in  six or seven weeks time the town will suddenly lose 10,000 inhabitants.


The hotel that had the lead on its roof stolen by some fleet footed miscreants is having a replacement put on. A small army of day-glo jacketed workmen are standing around waiting for the lead sheets to arrive. The building now has much improved security.


Daffodils in the garden of the auld kirk.


Outside someone has laid some brightly painted stones in a flower bed. I wonder what they symbolize ?  One of them has a picture of a pilgrim standing outside the cathedral. Strange how often the word pilgrim has appeared in this blog over the last fifteen years. In Italy pilgrims passed us on the way to Assisi, in France they were on their way to Santiago. St.Francis, St.James and now St.Andrew. Quiet echoes of history. 



We must have passed this doorway a thousand times without reading the words on the lintel. The first $ sign. Who'd have thought it ?


So starts a day when it seems nothing is happening in our small, northerly, part of the world. 




Friday, March 15, 2024

The golfers return.

Sunshine brings out the golfers. A small crowd impatiently standing by the first green on the Old Course. Lots of hardy Canadians waiting to tee off. They're making the most of the cheap pre-Easter hotel rates and betting that the weather will stay 'good'. Parking in town is once again proving to be a 'challenge'. Large rental SUV's capable of holding golf bags and their owners luggage now much in evidence.


We walk out along the beach to where the small river flows into the sea. Hares everywhere. They must be the bane of the green keepers lives. The better part of a dozen are seen scurrying across the fairways and into the safety of the gorse bushes. To see them in these numbers must be a clear signal that we're in mating season. One of the rangers stops to tell us that two young porpoise have been washed up next to each other on the beach. He's really saddened by this and thinks the unusual tides might have stranded them on a sandbar.  We saw two Orcas in the bay last night perhaps they were responsible ?


Daffodils everywhere. They're even flowering in the thin sandy soil near the bird sanctuary. Nothing shouts a Scottish 'Easter' like the arrival of daffodils.


In the cinema a horror movie about an evil teddy bear. This, I'm betting, will be popular with the student demographic. Three more weeks of lectures followed by  two weeks of revision and then we're into exam time. In eight weeks time the students will all be gone.


In readiness for this first influx of tourists the towns watering holes are putting out their high season menus. 'Loaded fries' on offer at the bar under the luxury block of flats. Seems you can get ' loaded fries ' with Haggis and peppercorn. Angus notes that in these inflationary times none of the menus show prices.

Thursday, March 14, 2024

An understandable delay.

 

The groundsmen are enjoying a start of day coffee in the cafe on the beach. They're a hard working bunch but this morning they're in no rush to get started. It's the time of the high equinox tides and there's little they can do to stop the sea scouring away the dunes. This morning there's enough of a wind to send the waves crashing into the car park. The Edinburgh golfers who've parked their Porsches and Mercedes there are going to be in for a surprise. A gaggle of students stand and watch  the waves lap around the cars. When the men in the cafe said the tides would be abnormally high they meant it.


At long last the work on the Royal and Ancient clubhouse is nearing an end. The structure has been brought into the 21st century and changing rooms for the lady golfers have been excavated into the ground beneath. The work was supposed to have been finished eighteen months ago but, as is the way with these things, it's suffered a lengthy delay. The new porch has been designed to match the style of the old building and blends in well. I'm sure the bill for all this work will be eyewatering. Let's hope there's enough left in the kitty to start taking the coastal erosion seriously. 


Easter approaching. Music, which maintains a low profile during much of the year, suddenly comes centre stage. There are lunchtime and evening concerts from now until the end of Holy Week.


We were due to drive down to collect 'Cabbage'  the PONette this week. Her elderly lady owner ( who was wildly enthusiastic a month ago ) is suddenly coming to terms with saying goodbye to her companion. At a certain age saying goodbye to a dog means much more than saying goodbye to a dog. We've told her that we're happy to wait until she thinks the time is right. Somethings can't be rushed. Everything has its time. ' Cabbage ' is a  name that is likely to be changed.


Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Medieval hygiene.

 

A long walk on the beach. We chat to a lady in a Hermes headscarf walking her labrador. The labrador has found a stick which it holds in its jaws with a head high sense of accomplishment.  Only dog owners would understand this tail wagging level of contentment. The woman tells us that in the middle ages the beach would have been crowded with pilgrims washing off the dust from their long journeys. Suitably cleansed they would then have headed to the cathedral to see the Saints relics. In a place like this there are people who walk their dogs and there are Professors of medieval history who walk their dogs. We part company after learning more about medieval body odours and body hygiene than we would ever have expected to know - or would have possibly ever wanted to.

 
It's rubbish collection day. The streets lined with wheelie bins. We're left to ponder what medieval pilgrims would have made of this strange and unsightly ritual. The seagulls have found a black rubbish bag and emptied all its contents on the pavement in front of the opticians.


A detour to the Italian coffee shop for a restorative espresso. A man is out testing his new motability scooter. We watch his progress. He hurtles past the kirk , heads down the road in front of  the closed newsagents , crosses the road , does a U-turn and then returns. As he passes us he stops to describe the various features of the vehicle. After a series of unhappy hip replacements the scooter enables him to get out and about again. It has a top speed of 8 mph. He is testing it to the max.


Before heading back to the car there's time for a bacon roll at the cafe on the beach. They're just opening as we show up.  Post Tokyo jet lag has left Angus ravenously hungry at strange hours of the day. It seems that we can longer breeze through time zone changes with the casual indifference we did in our twenties. 


The evening lecture on right ( and left ) wing terrorism in the US by the Georgetown professors was notable for it lucidity and sobriety. Seats  have been reserved for us on the front row right by the lectern. This is a kind but unwelcome gesture. We had hoped to be able to slip in and sit anonymously ( and dreamily ) at the back. I'm guessing the average age of the audience ( even adjusting for the old fogeys on the front row ) is 20. We learn about the Turner Diaries and the importance of the  six words ' Very fine people on both sides'.   Q Anon figures largely, and appallingly, in the presentation. In the 80's and 90's terrorists were driven by ideology now they're often linked by where they appear on the spectrum. The students ask thoughtful questions with impressive lucidity. Angus is once again left feeling the current generation is so much more adult than their predecessors. This is the link to the book :https://www.cfr.org/book/god-guns-and-sedition


After a  very serious dinner ( enlivened by the fact that one of the academics met his wife to be in this very same restaurant eleven years ago this coming Friday  ) we creep away to the new cocktail bar in the old Post Office for a  drink. It's quiet. Seems the students don't make an appearance until ten so we have the place to ourselves.  'The Font' thinks the new bar has a 'louche' feel. I have to agree. Presbyterian it ain't. The high bar stools are designed for a younger, less jet lagged, clientele. It will be very popular with the late teens crowd which in a town like this means it will enjoy rip-roaring commercial success.