More chocolate.

 

We meet the German family. This morning the mother and the youngest are out gathering wildflowers in the hedgerows. They already have a trug full.

The father and the two other youngsters head to the beach. Father spends three hours with the children in the morning before heading into the economics department for meetings. He's back home mid afternoon which enables him to spend more time on the sand with the family. They set off for Heidelberg on August 20th when the Scots family they've done a house swap with return. " We didn't know places like this still existed " he tells me. I take this to be a positive.

The postman delivers another birthday box of chocolates. Angus is rather surprised to be sent rose and violet creams. You'd have thought they went out of fashion at the same time as Barbara Cartland. Still when it comes to chocolates who wants to be too choosy ? 

The old abbey.

 

Out on the farm track we pass a group of enthusiastic bird watchers. They tell us they're looking for Corn Buntings. Right on cue a small flock of them arrive and perch on the wheat stalks in front of us.  Thank God for bird watchers. In a world gone mad their interest in the villages feathered inhabitants puts everything into proportion. After we go the bird watchers settle down on the grass verge and share their breakfast sandwiches. 

High speed broadband being laid . Seven vans parked in a line blocking the road into town. There is a hold up that lasts all of two minutes. A man with one of those rotating ' Stop - Go' signs oversees the traffic flow. He exudes an overarching aura of boredom. In Italy or France delayed drivers would have been hooting like crazy. Here there is a sort of mild irritation. We're held up long enough to wonder why seven vans are needed. There appears to be one van for each workman. 'The Font' observes that three, possibly four,  of the vans would be needed to carry the large number of traffic cones that have been laid out.

On our way back from the supermarket a detour into the country to the site of an old abbey.

Two motor cycle helmets left unattended on the grass tell us we're in the right place. The countryside is glorious and (motorcyclists excepted) deserted. Eerily so. You don't have to get far off the beaten track to discover that once you stray north of the central belt Scotland is remote and empty. 

Some old monastic buildings used as a hay shed and the outlines of altars and chapels all that's left after 500 years of gentle decay.  The two motor cycle helmets are still lying on the grass when we leave. In its heyday the church only had one aisle - which is unusual. There is a tree which is reputed to have been planted by a saintly Queen in the ninth century.  A small plaque informs us that this is a 'legend' and that the tree is probably only four hundred and fifty years old.

Esoterica of the day. The history of colour charts :https://hyperallergic.com/929139/the-delightfully-saturated-history-of-color-charts/

Beauty on the internet :https://x.com/dog_rates/status/1815869962998652986

Cheeky sparrows and a glum pigeon.

A birthday dinner at a restaurant outside town. Pre-Brexit the Scottish hospitality industry was staffed by an annual migration of eager young Europeans wanting to spend their summers learning English. Now, in the absence of work visas,  local restaurants and hotels are desperate to find any staff whatsoever. It shows. Prices remain unchanged but standards slump. Last night it took three and a half hours to be served four tepid and lack lustre courses. The place was full of identikit golfers ( blazers , white Oxfords and chinos ) drinking whisky with dinner . They seemed oblivious to the dire service. Whisky - on an empty stomach - will do that.

I'm not saying that things are quiet out here on the coast but the topic of conversation over breakfast is the second brood of sparrows. They've appeared on the lawn over the last five days. We reckon there were 23 chicks in the first brood at the end of June. The second brood looks as if it's reached 31. The young birds are fed a mix of bird seed and bread crumbs from the Magimix. Sparrow mothers are very diligent.

Two pigeons call the garden at 'The last wee house before Denmark' their home. A pile of feathers on the lawn tells me that the sparrow hawk has got one of them. The remaining pigeon sits on a garden chair looking glum.

Spare a thought for the Secret Service which faces new and expansive threats. We went to a lecture at the terrorism school of the IR Department here that pointed out that domestic terrorists tend not to be ideological but driven and united by psychological issues :https://intelnews.org/2024/07/15/01-3355/

Wandering gulls.

 

A group of Japanese standing in a circle in the salt water pool under the castle. What can they be doing at six in the morning ? Two American tourists walk, carefully, around the concrete edge of the pool holding hands. At the far end they realise this may not have been the wisest thing to do. The Japanese and Americans ignore each other.

The lock gates are being repaired but problems have arisen. The supervisor  informs us that everyone thought the pegs slotted into holes drilled into the bed rock. This morning they discover that one of the gates pivots on the bedrock but the other swings on a large metre square lump of Georgian iron. After two hundred years of salt water immersion the iron is 'brittle '. This may cause problems. The 'gaffer' launches into a  lengthy analysis of water based corrosion. Angus wonders when it was he last head the word 'brittle' with regard to ironwork. The bridge across the harbour may have to be closed to pedestrians while they work out what to do.

A blow up plastic dam is being installed to enable the workmen to gain access  to the block of  Georgian iron. In order to do this they plan to drain the inner harbour.

More notices appear on lamp posts. Drivers are being asked to slow down to avoid the baby gulls that wander, innocently but aggressively,  across the streets. Baby gulls do not move as quickly as speeding cars. Come to that drivers tend not to read signs sellotaped to lamp posts.

Outside the Salvation Army charity store a young gull appears. It has very fine plumage but has lost its mother and is terrified. It heads off into the relative safety of the church garden where it sets about trampling on the begonia beds. 

So starts a Tuesday morning in a small quiet North Sea town where the welfare of the local gulls ( and the working of the lock gates ) are the burning issues of the day.

Sea water and cuts :https://www.mcgill.ca/oss/article/medical-student-contributors-did-you-know/seawater-really-antidote-cuts-and-scrapes

I don't think these ever made it to Europe :https://thehustle.co/originals/the-spectacular-rise-and-surprising-staying-power-of-the-george-foreman-grill  I'd also missed this psychological insight :https://thehustle.co/originals/why-7-eleven-plays-classical-music-outside-its-stores

Cheerful shoes.

The left over sunflowers in the supermarket lobby have a Monday morning look to them. After a hectic Sunday this is how many American political journalists must be feeling today. On the radio a woman from Berkeley says, somewhat prosaically, yesterdays events were ' expected but still a shock'. 

A display of highly polished golf shoes on a window ledge outside the  bar by the town fountain. The plastic heather is a 'cheerful' touch.

The Christmas store is having its window replaced. A sign tells us that it's open for business as usual. Quite what is usual about selling Christmas decorations in July is left unexplained.  Next door one of the redundant mobile phone stores remains unlet. There was a time when finding commercial premises in town was as rare as finding hens teeth.  Now, by my count,  there are seven vacant shops. The switch to online retailing is changing buying patterns and shop leases attract much less interest. 

The demand for injection moulded souvenirs remains robust. Made in Shenzen, shipped to Scotland and then sold and  carried onwards to a permanent home in Madrid or Monterey. Angus can't tell whether the regimental pipers in the window of this shop have different tartans . They're certainly unlike any tartan you'd see  in Scotland.

The young seagulls in their tell tale brown and white feathers can be seen parading around town. They fly down from their nests on the chimney stacks, don't have the strength to fly back up and then get lost. The first signs telling drivers to slowdown to avoid fledgling gulls have started to appear. 

It was Angus' birthday yesterday. This morning a rather grand present arrives. A box of chocolates from the House of Lords. Will they be suitably grand ? We shall soon find out.

Some calmness on the radio this morning :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SeUrjsVHXY

A topic I know nothing about :https://www.design233.com/articles/ghanas-architectural-heritage?

Faith sees best in the dark.

Overnight a storm. The rain throws itself against the roof with a ferocity of purpose you'd expect in February but not July. On the evening news the radio commentator describes the weather at the British Open golf tournament as 'dire'. That pretty much sums it up. Thankfully, this morning the storm has passed and we wake to blue ( or at least bluish ) skies and a warm sun that's already well above the horizon. It's going to be a glorious day.

Hundreds of crows sitting on the stone walls that line the track that runs from the house to the shore. Being 'canny' birds the crows take off as we head towards them. They circle around and then when we've passed by settle down again. They roost like this every evening from six onwards. During the day they scoot off to glean the barley fields and sunbathe on the roof of the potato sheds.  From their numbers I'd reckon the crows ( together with the local sparrows, swallows, larks and starlings ) are having a bumper year.

A bishop on the morning 'thought for the day' tells us that one of Joe Bidens favourite lines is ' Faith sees best in the dark'. The bishop then goes on to tells us that he's gently suggested to his 80 something mother that , after the latest 'misjudgement' when parking her car, she give up driving.  After much discussion the family have finally taken the keys away and 'lost' them. We are left to ponder if this message is spiritual or has a more political undercurrent. 

To the cheesemongers for some smoked salmon. This is the morning when it's delivered from the smoke house. The cheesemongers also has Brie de Melun which is something we've not seen since the market in France.

July is the time of year when the university halls of residence, empty out of term, become home to European language schools. We wonder how much you would need to be paid to shepherd European teenagers around over the summer. A posse  of Italian fifteen year olds , and their teachers, demonstrate how not to cross the road. The zebra crossing is ignored in favour of a four way junction. Some charge across the road, others - in a display of teenage independence - head off at right angles.

The busker 'busks' alone. Perhaps a coach load or two of tourists will show up soon ? We think the busker may be Polish or Slovak. He has a heavily accented repertoire that hints at a Slavic rather than a Scots upbringing. The tunes are jolly but unrecognizable.

The seagulls are getting to that stage when they make it clear that this is their turf. Two, arguing over a piece of Domino pizza crust,  hiss at us and make it quite clear they are not going to share their culinary good fortune with anyone.

This mornings music listened to on the car radio :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVV0ArxAmZs

A substack reminder why we maintain a subscription to this magazine :https://substack.com/home/post/p-145387774

Great reading and a plastic bird scarer.

Friends heading off to San Francisco. Heathrow we are told is working well after yesterdays IT outage. Every quarter of an hour one or other of us gets a text saying the airport is crowded. Yesterday was supposed to be the busiest day of the year with families celebrating the start of the school holidays by flying off to sunnier climes. With so many cancellations it looks like today is going to be a travel nightmare on steroids.

The farmers wife has given up on cleaning the farmhouse windows. There's a swallows nest in the corner of every one. Their presence is unmistakable.

The outdoor coffee 'venue' that has opened up on the site of the old Greyfriars monastery is doing a roaring trade. They have a plastic sparrow hawk to scare the gulls away from their clients bacon rolls. This seems to work although we see a particularly ferocious gull settling on the far wall in readiness for a smash and grab raid on an unsuspecting tourist.

The bakers doing a brisk trade in what the French would call 'religeuse' but are here referred to , more prosaically, as coffee buns.

Frog cakes continue to be best sellers.

A student bike upended on the pavement. Looking at the rust that's eaten its way through the frame I'm assuming its been left out for the dustmen.

This was probably one of the best books I've read in years. Although we spent much time in Germany in the late 70's I'd never heard of women artists like  Gunta Stolzl who ran the Bauhaus weaving mill (  https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/frauhaus-gunta-stolzl-walter-gropius-and-the-women-of-the-bauhaus ) or Marianne Brandt ( who posthumously got the highest price ever for a small Bauhaus object - a 1927 metal teapot - that went for $361,000 at Sothebys ). The last chapters brilliantly - and poignantly - describe how a hyper polarized society blundered with eyes wide open on its fateful path . 

This mornings car radio offering :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HI5Y9l2NHIo

Whales and LA :https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/why-have-so-many-whale-remains-been-found-on-the-ocean-floor-near-los-angeles-180984694/

Micro-naps :https://www.sciencealert.com/surprising-sleep-discovery-suggests-weve-been-missing-the-brains-micro-naps