Into the light.

 

Good morning from Sophie who starts her day by glaring determinedly at the curlews in the field by the salt lake . The curlews continue chattering away which suggests they are oblivious - or at least untroubled -  by the presence of the PONette. The days are getting noticeably longer now.  How Sophie - who is the sort of girl who's up at first light and in bed when it gets dark - will cope with twenty hours of daylight will be interesting to observe. By the potato barns we meet two local farmers. One of them found a couple having a Valentines Day picnic in the middle of his freshly planted field of spring wheat. 'They even had a table cloth set out on the ground ' . The conversation turns to the resignation of the leader of the Scottish National Party. We have a wee wager on who the replacement will be. I put my money on Angus Robertson.

Another shop in town is closing. By a quick reckoning seven have closed since Christmas.  Is it a slowdown in the economy, the advent of shopping malls, or an acceleration in online buying ? Quite probably a combination of all of the above. The same hollowing out of town centres was happening in France. Angus is tempted to open up a small wine bar that has poetry readings and serves affordable but drinkable wines. In the summer local caddies could lecture visiting golfers on Old Course 'etiquette'. 'The Font' thinks Angus would drink the profits.

Sophie leads the way from the centre of town down to the beach. We're early today so we have the beach pretty much to ourselves. A group of players from the rugby team come running past. Two of them stop to chat with the vision of loveliness. She lets one of them tickle her, the other she doesn't.  Both of them laugh. 

On our return we stop off at the good coffee cafe. There are lots of young people about waiting for their caffeine shots before the first lectures. During term time we drive at no more than 20 mph through town. The students are great believers in their own personal  immortality and spill off the pavement onto the road with no concern for oncoming traffic.

We pass an exceptionally fine wooden door. It looks more Spanish than Scottish. The stone door piers have been recycled from the old cathedral. Waste not want not is written into this wee towns DNA.

The book by the spare to the British throne does not seem to have sold well in these parts. I would have expected there to be a copy in the window of the booksellers . They are stacked up on a table inside. If the window display is anything to go by then Mary Queen of Scots seems to be a hit with local book buyers.

Mixer taps.

Curlews are the new bane of Sophie's life. A large flock of them have taken up residence in the field by the burn. If they weren't so far away they would be 'dealt with'. Instead the distant birds get the full on PONette glare.

On our return we meet the cleaning lady. We are her first call of the day . The new American tenants at the house in town have never seen an electric kettle ( do they not exist in the US ? ) and are perplexed what it's used for. This may explain why the cafetiere is a thing of mystery but the old coffee maker with a paper filter is used all day every day.  The tenants are also surprised that all the bathroom basins have separate cold and hot taps. To be fair 'The Font' also finds this a Scottish peculiarity . For some reason the kitchen sink does have a mixer tap.

It is suggested by 'The Font' that Angus has a haircut. In fact it's not so much a suggestion as an instruction. 

The road by the roundabout is closed off. This is annoying as it's where Angus intended to park. A man in a blue boiler suit is standing in a hole doing something with a fibre optic cable.  He's protected by an array of bollards and blue wheelie bins. A number of locals are standing in their doorways watching him. I guess they've taken the view that you take your excitement where you find it.

Angus goes to see the physiotherapist who tortures the soles of his feet for five minutes and then announces grandly 'You're discharged'. He goes on to say ' Do remember you're not as young as you used to be so don't go lifting heavy weights'. The cheek of it ! Physiotherapy finished it's time to head off in search of a haircut.

The first barber says they can see me at five this afternoon. I thank him but say that's too late. The Turkish barbers don't open until noon so they're not an option . The Turkish barbers also have an alarming habit of burning ear hair with a cigarette lighter. Nineteen year old students may think this cool - those of more advanced years are less keen on naked flames near their ears. Angus tries the trendy  'grooming salon'. Three young men with civil war re-enactment beards are already hard at work cutting their clients hair. They are wearing shorts which is unusual in the Scottish winter. From the look of the clients it would seem that the 1950's era short back and sides has suddenly become fashionable again.  This only goes to show that if you wait long enough your look will be considered hip -  this may not apply to kipper ties. I ask when they might be able to cut my hair. ' We could do you a week on Friday ' says the young man closest to the door. I thank him and leave. When did getting a haircut ever require so much planning ?

Walking back to the car I pass a wonderful 18th century doorway that's been added to an old medieval building behind. The outer door is open but the inner one is closed. There's something very inviting and ' lived in '  about this door. What tales it could tell.

Down by where I've parked the car there's an building that's been remodeled many times. These houses were part of the medieval ceremonial route to the cathedral. This one has all sorts of closed off windows and doorways. I can't work out what the huge arch that spans the second floor could have been used for. I'm guessing that this was a merchants house and that there might have been wooden doors and a pulley there to haul up goods for storage.

A group of staff are standing outside one of the colleges. They're protesting that their pay isn't keeping pace with inflation.

So starts a Thursday morning in an unusually mild Scottish February. A trip to the beach with Sophie now beckons.

Stirred into action.

A bright but windy morning. Sophie is having a lie in . She's told it's time to get up. but employs her well practised ' If I ignore him he'll go away' routine. The sound of a yogurt pot being opened finally stirs her into action.

One of the village Jack Russells is on a solitary tour of the village. The Jack Russells never seem to get the message that this is Sophie's turf. After the briefest of greetings the family diva heads off to check on the farmers pig and the rapidly growing piglets. The Jack Russell continues down the farm track in the opposite direction.  It has its own priorities. 

On the beach some sand art. 

Lots of students up and about this morning. The beach borderline busy. I'm guessing they are walking off the excesses of Valentines night reveling. No one seems particularly keen to stop and say hello to the PONette. The golf courses also busier. Twenty or so folk waiting at the first tee for their turn to set off. 

                                                                             

Some white chocolate owls on the supermarket shelves. Are these for Easter, Valentines Day or something else altogether ?

The joiner phones to say that he'll be here on Tuesday to fit the book cases. He wonders if the electricians have been to take out the wall lights and put in new sockets in the ceiling. I inform him that I've sent six e-mails but they've not replied to any of them. The joiner promises that he'll 'chase them up'. Angus detects the first outlines of a problem in the making.

Wheee !

Balloons seem to be becoming a thing. The super smart Los Angeles folks are a little alarmed by the reaction in Washington.  The 1967 Outer Space Treaty says that no nation can lay claim to outer space. Outer space in this sense is usually taken to mean anything that's in orbit 300,000 feet  up and above - the Karman line. To confuse things the 1944 Chicago Convention which controls airline movements says that nations do have control of the skies above them up to around 60,000 feet. So that means a great big chunk of air between 60,000 and 300,000 feet has never been regulated. Seems that some new treaties are going to be needed - and soon.

Sophie starts her day with an enthusiasm that is infectious. The sky is cloudless, the sunrise golden and the wind has subsided . Curlews and oystercatchers are chased. My shaggy companion makes it quite clear that life is simply wonderful and we shouldn't waste a moment in searching out great adventures.

Great adventures soon follow. An eager husky does a dance of greeting round the PONette. Having done this the husky then repeats the process. Sophie, now at an age where excessive pre-breakfast physical exertion is to be avoided, stands and stares. The husky , satisfied with his performance, heads off after a group of golden retrievers.

By the end of our beach walk Sophie's muzzle is home to sand, seaweed and the detritus that is washed up by high tide. This gives her what might best be described as a 'lived in ' look and is proof positive that her day has started magnificently.

We go to the trendy student cafe. The good coffee cafe has a queue that stretches round the corner. Sophie is not good in queues that stretch round corners. On our way we detour by the bookstore. The young man behind the counter has a pile of recently published murder-mysteries ordered by 'The Font'. He asks me if I know the root of the sentence ' You can't judge a book by its cover'. I don't. Nor does he.

The clothing store next to the cafe has changed its window display. The mannequin is wearing a striped jacket. Pasadena circa 1988 comes to mind . By contrast the local male clothing stores eschew the colourful , preferring to remain firmly rooted in the practical beige tones of the 1950's.

Rihanna is better known that I thought :https://www.investopedia.com/rihanna-net-worth-7108308

High in caffeine

 

First light. The architect from the cottage by the crossroads is out with her labradors. She stops to tell us that she's seen a ring-necked duck. From the modulating lilt to her voice it can be assumed that this is something rare and wonderful. Angus, who wouldn't recognize a ring-necked duck if it landed on his head, does his best to respond to this information with a suitable level of enthusiasm. The architect has also seen the humpbacked whale again. 

'The Font' is going to Edinburgh later today. Sophie will be left without a car and will need to face sub-par cooking. Bacon and sausages are picked up in readiness. There are no tattie scones on the supermarket shelves but there are potato farls which look like the next best thing. Sophie is not a great fan of her masters cooking but there's only so much he can do to ruin a sausage.

In the supermarket car park a Mini with a large can of Red Bull strapped to its back. Students must consume huge quantities of this.

Two golfers heading out to the fourth tee with a small dog following along behind. The dog never wanders far. This is a very sensible way for family dogs to get exercise.  It is highly improbable that anyone in their right mind would go golfing with a havoc wreaking PON. They most certainly wouldn't go out twice.

Onto the beach. Sophie loves going to the beach. After six months of going there twice a day it still gets her tail waving. The family diva is getting a little braver now.  This morning she walks into the sea so that her paws are covered.

Our journey back to the car is interrupted by Archie the arthritic Labrador, an inquisitive  bassett and a very clingy beagle. We also meet a Jack Russell of greatly advanced years who literally stops and stares at the vision of loveliness in front of him. There would have been a time when Sophie would have barked at these interlopers . Now she greets them like long lost friends.

A fun discovery outside LA . Strange how the cost of eating out in the US seems to have skyrocketed since Covid. The Manhattanites say that the restaurant and hotel sectors can't get the staff which is rebalancing the economy into new sectors. People are shifting out of hospitality into higher paying and less tiring employment. This hotels three course dinner for $95 almost looks reasonable :https://www.ojaivalleyinn.com/

Interesting blog  :https://pensionista.co.uk/2023/02/07/the-relic/

The movie that is set to come to the cinema later this month is apparently quite good ( although the plot line is still beyond my understanding ) : https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knock_at_the_Cabin

Moral dilemma

On the car radio this morning a story about Donald Trump criticising Rihanna. The commentator informs us that Rihanna is a 'popular entertainer'. A snippet of her music is then played. I'm guessing that the age profile of listeners to the seven am radio broadcast on a Sunday morning is rather higher than that of the average Rihanna fan. The announcer reassures us that despite the criticism Rihanna is 'laser focused ' on her performance at the Super Bowl.

" Save your family or save humanity. Make the choice " is the moral dilemma posed by the poster for 'coming attractions'  at the cinema.  It is certainly too profound a question for Angus and his shaggy companion  to wrestle with this early on a Sunday morning. 

The other viewing choices are less morally daunting. Puss in Boots is showing which indicates that it's half term in the local schools.

We stop off at the trendy student cafe for a pre-walk coffee. It is already full . Angus isn't sure whether the students are up early or returning home after a late night. The espresso is so strong it's undrinkable. Sophie fares better with a bowl of fresh water and a piece of shortbread. 

I'd hoped that the wind might have died down a bit by the time we make it onto the beach. It hasn't. At times both of Sophie's ear stick out at right angles.  To avoid the stinging sand we return home through the shelter of the dunes.

A slightly late start to our day. Scotland beats Wales in the rugby .  A rare and unexpected occurrence and the teams second win in a row.  A bottle of Meursault is opened to celebrate. This morning Angus  thinks he might have drunk one glass too many. 

Battling the elements

A week ago who would have thought the Manhattanites would be talking about balloons ? Come to that, who would have thought that balloons could be so big or their ancillary systems so complex ?  One of the Manhattanites says ( with what might pass for authority )  ' It was 200 feet high. That's the height of a twenty storey building '.  Surely, that must be way up there in the category of statements you never thought you'd hear .

Saturday morning and the shore is busy. Sophie heads off across the dunes but then pauses and looks over her shoulder to make sure I'm keeping up. Even the bravest of girls like to know there's backup close at hand when faced with a beach full of runners heading towards her. A few words of encouragement and she's off again. 

'The Font' comments on the signage on the van in front of us. I guess there was a time when all joiners doubled as undertakers. Now it seems an odd combination - fitted kitchens and coffins.

There's a parking space in the small medieval street that runs down to the ruins of the castle. We nearly bought a house here once but backed away when we found the street acts as a funnel for the wind that blows in off the North sea. Scotland is windy at the best of times. Live in a street that funnels the gales and you'll be forever bent double battling the elements on your way home.

This morning it's the turn of the ' Where William met Catherine cafe ' for a coffee and  a bacon roll. Sophie is well known here and is greeted by name and given an oatcake. It's coming on six months since we left France. At one stage we were worried that Sophie might find it difficult adjusting to her new life. How wrong can you be ?

Outside the cathedral ruins a 60's era Morris Minor. No seatbelts, wind up windows, atrocious build quality  and steering that had only a distant relationship with the direction you wanted it to go. How did any of us survive driving in these things ? The student owner probably thinks it's mega-cool.

Cost conscious demographic.

Sophie barks at a pigeon that's sitting preening itself on one of the gate piers. The pigeon dutifully flies off. Sophie swaggers into the back of the car with a ' I certainly told him ' gait. 

To the beach. For me just another start of day walk. For my shaggy companion a time of high adventure and endless horizons. Oystercatchers to pursue, dogs to say hello to, maritime scents to savour ( she discovers sea urchins this morning ) and runners to chase. Male runners tend to the humorless. Females are more likely to stop and give her a tickle. 

A white flag on a pole at the fourteenth tee flaps in a way that attracts her complete attention and brings our walk to a halt. We stay like this until Sophie decides that a flapping flag is not a threat. This takes some time.

The Paperchase store  in town is closing down. The latest victim of the slowdown in the economy. 20% off everything . There is also a 3 for 2 on Valentines Day cards which must appeal to a cost conscious Scottish Casanova demographic.

Aberdeen Angus souvenirs are spreading. A large picture of a 'coo' appears in the Highland Shop window. Next door to it an Aberdeen Angus in a kilt.

We park the black Volvo by the newsagents and go to pick up the local paper. Sophie and Angus then proceed to the cafe that serves Jaffa Cakes. To say this makes my companion happy would be an understatement. Her tail whacks like a metronome on acid against the table legs. 

Contrails in the sky this morning. The RAF are practising full throttle touch and goes at the local airbase.

Mexico's rescue dogs head to Turkey :https://twitter.com/m_ebrard/status/1622989517115228166

Reverential silence.

Off to the beach. Sophie runs ahead in search of adventure.  Despite those titanium knees she can display a remarkable turn of speed when it suits her. Angus is forgotten and left to trail along behind. For the PONette life is too exciting to be lived at anything other than top speed.

There is nearly an incident at the student cafe.  Another dog arrives. The interloper glares at Sophie . Thankfully, the interloper and its human companion leave before Sophie finishes her shortbread biscuit. 

Yesterday we drove to Dundee to pick up the picture we'd bought last week. The gallery is in an enormous old Victorian station hotel that has seen better days. It optimistically (?) claims to be a 3 star.  A plaque in the entrance hall honours a former guest. The hotel is built on a steep hillside so from the car park the reception is three floors up. All the lifts have signs in English, Ukrainian and Russian saying ' Children must not use the lifts as play areas. Other guests may want to use them. Parents you are responsible !!!! '. I use the stairs. The exotically accented woman at the front desk mixes surliness and disinterest in a fashion that anyone who visited the Soviet Union in the 70's or 80's would instantly recognize. When I ask how to get to the gallery she waves her hands in the direction of a long dark corridor.

At the end of the long dark corridor is a high ceilinged room lit by stained glass windows . It might once have been a ballroom but is now gloomily home to half a dozen large and randomly placed sofas, a variety of threadbare chairs and a  television set. The room is full of young women with children staring attentively at what's on the screen. Zelensky is speaking to parliament in London and his address is being broadcast live. All these young women and children are Ukrainian refugees. There is a strange, almost reverential, silence in the room . Even the toddlers seem to sense it . How odd that extraordinary events can be seen unfolding in our quiet backwater. I move on quickly.

In the gallery a very Scottish etching of a cat on guard over a coastal fishing village. I collect our painting and stow it in the back of the car. Settling into the drivers seat the sound of the Ukrainian national anthem being sung whispers from deep inside the hotel.  Zelensky has finished speaking. Angus quietly gives quiet thanks for the gift of a dull and ordered life.

Back in St Andrews there is always something surprising going on.                                                

Tweet du jour. The new King. One of the comments ' Why is he dressed so weird ?' is a comedy gem  :https://twitter.com/GrahamBart/status/1622979373400825862

Turf to Huntsville.

A hive of activity down by the golf courses. A dozen workmen are already hard at work laying turf around the old Swilcan bridge on the 18th tee. The crazy paving that caused such outrage was removed yesterday leaving a large circular scar on the grass. A small crowd of bobble hatted foreign golfers and a man from an American monthly golf magazine are clustered around watching them. The journalist is interviewing the visiting golfers who have surprisingly strong views on the matter. A man says ' I've flown all the way from Idaho and never expected to see anything like this '. Four men from Alabama have found some foot square pieces of turf that are surplus to requirement. They intend to take them back home to Huntsville. The men are as happy as three year olds with their great good fortune. As I leave they're deciding whether to give the turf a revitalising soak in their hotel bathtubs before  heading home with it. The man from Idaho tells the journalist that a round on the Old Course cost him $350 which he thinks is reasonable.

Angus is surprised with the speed with which the 'remedial' works are taking place.  Things rarely happen that quickly around here. The great and the good of the Royal and Ancient clearly want this episode to be forgotten as quickly as possible. The word hubris comes to mind.

Sophie observes this activity with barely concealed disinterest. She wants to get on to the beach. There are oystercatchers to chase, runners to glare at and dogs to meet.

It's taken six months but we are now being greeted by the regular dog owners. The owner of a brown cocker spaniel and the owner of two hyperactive mutts introduce themselves. The cocker spaniels owner is married to a caddy at the Jubilee course. The mutts owner is a reader in the physics department . I don't know their names but I now know the names of their dogs. Such is the camaraderie of the seven am dog walking crowd on the beach.

Archie the arthritic labrador is greeted. His tail wags slightly. There's life in the old fellow yet. Then it's time to head up over the dunes, along the path by the golf course and into town for a restorative bowl of water. More groundsmen are working scarifying the greens. They have a large tractor with a special device on the front to do this. A smaller tractor follows on behind.  Sophie finds this interesting so we stop and watch until she's satisfied that nothing more exciting is going to happen.