An absolutely wonderful Scots Adventure .: The precariat

Monday, March 30, 2026

The precariat

Radio Scotland explores the impact of the Gulf war on the 'precariat'. This is the first time I've heard this word used in every day speech. It's usually confined to dry economic analysis. The radio also tells us peace talks have taken place over the weekend but that neither the Americans or Iranians were there. The radio says they should more correctly be described as 'talks about talks'.

The run-up to Easter. The local cab drivers are already taking youngsters down to Edinburgh airport. It's a regular teaching week but I'd reckon that attendance at lectures will fall off sharply after Wednesday. $80 flights from Edinburgh to Spanish and Italian sun spots are just too good to miss. We overhear two American girls ahead of us in Starbucks say they've got return flights to Paris for $45. They're thinking of 'winging it' on hotel rooms. 'The Font' suggests they might want to rethink that. Paris at Easter is not an unknown travel concept.

Here the farmers daughter is expected to return from Oxford on Wednesday. Her boyfriend from Jackson Hole will be given the royal treatment. The guest room has been cleaned and the dogs are forbidden from going in there for their afternoon nap on the bed. We hope the lad hasn't had a sheltered upbringing and is prepared for the intimacy of life with two Jack Russells. The price of diesel is likely to dominate the dinner table conversation at the farmhouse so let's hope he's also prepared for that.

This morning the bakers fudge doughnuts are decorated with sprinkles. A small Easter touch.

The gulls are much friskier than they were. Give it a month or two and the town will resound to the sound of hungry chicks. There is little that can compare with the sound of hungry seagull chicks.

We pick up some fritillaries from the botanic garden. The garden at The last wee house before Denmark gets pummeled by the wind from the sea. Anything more than eighteen inches tall struggles to survive. We're hoping the fritillaries will prove to be robust enough to weather our coastal conditions.

A poster in the window of a house near the theatre. Evening lectures are still advertised in the old fashioned way. There are always at least four things on every night. This is the attraction of a small and remote university town.