On a run out with the family. Jul. 21

Good evening folks. I trust your all well and looking forward to your weekend. Maybe a wee trip to Nairn Beach with the family is on the cards. Should that be the case. Let me offer this cautionary tale. One Saturday lunchtime a seaside loving husband bundles his wife and two kids, complete with, buckets, spades, a frisbee, two deckchairs, assorted towels, a coolbox, and a full flask, into the motor and off they trundle. Our hero, determined to make it a happy occasion, attempts to lead his family in a rousing rendition of "Itsy, Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini". His valiant effort only earns him raised eyebrows from the dearly beloved and baffled looks, via the rear-view mirror, from the weans. Somewhat downhearted he turns on the radio and much to his chagrin, the offspring begin singing like wee linnties to songs he's never even heard of. As they proceed, our much miffed mannie relents and hums along while the children sing. Regaining much of his enthusiasm for the day by the time they arrive in Nairn.
To cut what could become a long story short. Our intrepid troupe find a parking spot, albeit some distance from the beach. And... laden, with two deckchairs, a coolbox, assorted towels, two buckets, two spades, a frisbee and a full flask, find themselves a space on the sand and set themselves for an afternoon of fun and frolic amongst the throng of pleasure seekers gathered thereon. Later in the afternoon. A bout of fun and games with the kids finds our much put upon, but doting father, a bitty hot and bothered. In addition to his suffering sand between his toes, up his nose, in his ears and in some very uncomfortable places in his cozzie. So he decides a wee dip in the sea will get rid of the sand and cool him down nicely.
So it's down to the waters edge, a wee look back to smile at the wife, who for some reason is shaking her head. Then it's head first into the grey-green waters lapping at Nairn's famous white sands.
(It may be prudent to note I have not used the inviting word when referring to the Moray Firth. Why? I hear you ask. Okay you didn't ask, but I'll tell you anyway. The Caribbean is inviting, the Mediterranean is inviting, the pond in your local park can also be inviting. The waters of the Moray Firth..... not so much!)
Our hapless spouse has forgotten the Moray Firth is actually an arm of the North Sea. One of the coldest stretches of water in Europe. He surfaces some 20 yards out, with the terrible realisation he can't get a breath, his heart's stopped and he's an interesting shade of blue. This is, of course, his body's reaction to the massive change in temperature he's just subjected it to. In short order our man retrieves some of his wherewithall and makes the twenty yards back to the beach without actually touching the water. Struggling manfully through the warm sand and with chattering teeth, he drops into his deckchair where his beloved, still shaking her head, pours a steaming cup of Bovril from the mysterious flask. Sadly... as if to add insult to injury. He finds he still has sand in some very uncomfortable places in his cozzie...

On dogs, sheep droppings and dervishes. Aug. 22

Morning folkses, from the wild and woolly place. We arrived last night at that well known jewel of the Utter He-brides, North Uist. Or Uibhist a Tuath to those of you afflicted of the Gaelic. A wee peruse out the living room window on this bonnie morning. Sees the sheeps, eating grass... the coos, eating grass... and the dog eating, sheep droppings... The wee clart, you'd think he never got sheep droppings at home.

The bold Maggie's like a whirling dervish running around with a brush, giving the floors what for. Me? I'm staying here, in bed, writing/typing this nonsense. Coz if I get too near thon brush I'm likely to end up in the dustpan too. She doesn't take any prisoners you know. She'd have absolutely no qualms about dropping me into the bin along with the cat/dog hair, dust and any stray sheep droppings. And I'm afraid that would be it for me. Dustpan to kitchen bin, kitchen bin to black bin bag, black bin bag to green bin, green bin to scaffie wagon, and scaffie wagon to coup... all because I got too near thon brush. So stay away from dervishes with brooms, whirling or otherwise. You can't say you haven't been warned.....

Jeannie and the sheep.

Jeannie and the sheep.

Stinky Bay, Benbecula

Stinky Bay, Benbecula

On kindred spirits. Nov. 19

Afternoon folks. Are you all halfway through the weekend. That's good that's where you should be. Mind you there's probably one or three of you half a day behind or even half a day ahead. The half a day behind ones are pretty obvious they're the ones with hangovers and heads like soggy biscuits. They're having to spend the day catching up with all those who are halfway through the weekend and they haven't really got a hope. To be honest they'll be lucky if they've caught up by tonight. Now the half a day ahead ones they're a different breed altogether. Heads in the clouds, claiming affinity with faeries, starlight and good magic. They hear music no-one else does, see beauty where few do and sing when the mood is upon them. Should you happen to meet one of these beautiful people. Treasure them for their cheerfulness and unshakeable belief in the world and all it's wonders. As many would shun them. Citing some disease of the mind, or a forever childhood syndrome. Many have falsely claimed the half a day ahead as kindred spirits, but are soon, and with much haste, to be exposed as the charlatans they are. It is true most should be considered halfway through the day as it is there normalcy is to be found. Just as there will forever be some who are half a day behind, albeit intermittently. But should any of you be truly half a day ahead then I claim you as one of my own. As we are few in number and forever to remain that way...

On weekend pastimes. May 24

Good morning folkses. I trust we're all just hunky dory and looking forward to an exciting adrenalin filled weekend. You know the kind of thing... waterski-ing on Loch Ness with herself nipping at your back-side, climbing the North Face of Ben Nevis in chust an extra long string simmet and open toed sandals, or maybe even a bitty white water exhilaration in a canoe made of banana skins and cigarette papers. What's that...! you're just going to lay on the couch watching telly! Ach well that's probably for the best. Have an extreme'ly good weekend folks...

On deceptive weather and Rudolph's nose. Nov. 17

Morning ladies and gents. Looking out the window this morning the fluffy wee clouds are making there way south'ish at a fair clip. Tulloch's dinky flags are flapping away in the breeze and over the road the neighbours ornamental grasses are forming a canopy over their wee g'nomies. Now you may think the picture I paint in your minds is tranquil and pleasant. but you forget one thing this is the Heilan's in November. That deceptively tranquil scene means there is a wind. A wind that will cut straight through your clothing to freeze all your important little places as well as some that aren't so important. It will chill your fingers to the bone and make your nose like Rudolph's.

See! I bet you didn't know Rudolph's nose was red due to the wind. Admittedly he's fond of a wee dram and that adds a bit of colour too, but in general it's the wind that gives his nose that bright red sheen. Santa's the same. A cold wind and a few drams equals red nose and rosy cheeks. That red suit with the furry trim? He only wears that in Scotland and the Scandi countries. Once he gets south it's a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and open toed sandals. Rudolph, Prancer and company they're wearing aviators and knotted hankies and they're all looking forward to a barbi on Bondi Beach. What am I saying here? I'm saying that up here it's ferk'n Freezin', with a capital F...

On driech and elephants in wet suits. Feb, 24

Morning y'all. A fine dreich Monday AM it is too. The kind of day when getting all your ducks in a row is easier than usual. So watch out for wildlife in the puddles folks. You know the kind of thing... swans, geese, trout, salmon, Loch Ness monsters (of course there's more than one, how else do you account for all them different pics) and maybe the odd eejit who didn't quite make it home from their local hostelry over the weekend. Stay safe, stay dry and keep a look out for elephants wearing wet suits and flippers. NB. They have been known to hide behind Red Bull cans discarded in the gutter...

Dingwall and Ben Wyvis from Urquhart

From Urquhart across the Cromarty Firth to Ben Wyvis and Dingwall.

Mucky wheelchair wheels. Mar. 19

Morning y'all. Well.... yesterday we were out doing touristy things. A wee bacon and egg roll at Benbecula Airport while watching the mail plane from Glasgow sitting on the apron doing absolutely nothing at all. I did get a bitty grief from herself for getting mucky wheelchair wheels, but a man's gotta do, what a man's gotta do. A saying that makes absolutely no sense at all, unless you know what it is the man's gotta do. Anyhow as far as I'm concerned the mucky wheels were acquired while in legitimate pursuit of some nice ship shots (gotta watch how you say that). So I feel perfectly justified in getting them clarted up to the hubs. We were also feeding the wild ponies and snapping some nice white geese I don't mean I was picking them up and breaking the bonnie birdies in half. Just in case somebody gets the wrong idea and reports me to RSPB Scotland as some kind of goose dismembering deviant. Anyway I reckon if I'd gotten too near them, I'd have have received a right feck'n peck'n. Me being me means we did of course set about capturing the odd lorry in the wild. Unfortunately there wasn't many about so a bit of disappointment there I'm afraid. Interestingly we couldn't get a single truck to take an apple or a carrot, they just ignored the proffered munchies altogether. I figured seeing as they were the direct descendants of the horse and cairt, they'd be a bitty partial to the odd golden delicious or one of Mr Bunny's favourite nibbles. But no it seems not, despite the fact the ponies certainly were. Incidentally... why are you still staring at your screen trying to make some sense out of this load of nonsense. Have a great day folks.

On heatwaves in the western isles. May 18

Morning all. Haven't had a waffle in a while, no particular reason, but these little episodes, that some may feel, reveal more than a hint of insanity just kind of sneak up on me.
Anyhoo we are still in North Uist and it's still drenched in sunshine. It's been over a week now since there was a bit of cool, and I have to say some of the locals are showing definite signs of melting. But I've still got the string simmet on, you'll be pleased to hear. In fact it's so warm the sheep are being sold pre-cooked from the field. In addition there was the puzzling antics of a couple of geese yesterday, who were covering themselves all over in parsley butter. However all was revealed when they wrapped themselves in tinfoil and lay down in the grass. A knowing voice from behind us said "och aye! they'll be done to a turn in three hours". We turned to see the farmer, who owned the geese, sitting cross-legged on a fence post in just a pink simmet and a pair of ver' loose multi-coloured boxers. Not a pretty sight I can tell you. Anyway he told us his hens were doing similar things. The only difference being that as they were free range, they chose the healthier option and were grilling themselves on the corrugated roof of the barn.
That's the end of this particular piece of literary drivel. As always we hope it gave you a different take on the day. More soon...
Culloden Viaduct

Culloden Viaduct

On greetin' for your mammy. Jun. 21

Good evening y'all. I trust you're all fit and rarin', but you're allowed to be fit, or rarin' should you not fall into the first category. Bearing in mind that the last thing I would want is for any of you to fall at all. Because falling is generally expected to result in varying degrees of weeping and wailing, skint knees and snotty noses, depending on the ingredients of the fall ie height, velocity, obstructions, landing surface density. The volume of this caterwauling also depends on how hardy you are and whether or not your mammy's within greetin' range. As an aside... After many successive bouts of blah blah and yada yada, cups of tea and digestive biscuits, the experts have come to the conclusion that it is primarily the abrupt curtailing of motion at the bottom end of the fall that results in the blood, the snot and the tears, not the fall itself. I bet you didn't see that coming? Anyway I'll quit while I'm ahead. Actually I'm not just a head. I've got all the other bits too. Due to overwork and abuse some of them don't work particularly well, but they're still there. So stay safe and keep smiling y'all. It's the only way...

On the fitness of dogs, butcher's or otherwise. Feb. 22

Evening folks. As usual we hope you're all as fit as a butcher's dog. Whatever that means. Surely if the dog was being fed by the butcher, and likely to receive the less lucrative, fattier, morsels. This, by natural progression implies their poor wee dug could be a bit on the podgy side and certainly not as fit as the saying would have you believe. Please also note we are not informed re the girth of the butcher... an important factor in the dogs exercise regime. Neither are we told what kind of dog the butcher actually has. They could have a daschund, a husky, or even a Great Dane. Now while I concede these breeds could easily be healthy examples of the species canis lupus familiaris. It doesn't necessarily follow, without evidence and for the reasons above, they are actually going to be fit. I mean a greyhound could generally be considered fit, as could a chihuahua. In fact the amount of bouncing around a ferk'n chihuahua does, clearly reveals a tendency towards noisy hyperactivity revealing in turn it's fitness. So I think we should change the saying to.... He/She's as fit as a gym teachers chihuahua. And if the gym teacher also has a tendency towards noisy hyperactivity. Then you kill two birds with one stone. Another saying of questionable veracity. Two birds, one stone, c'mon...

On hunting Scotch pies. Feb. 23

Morning y'all. I trust all is just hunky dory on this fine Friday AM. We took a wee run out to Forres Tuesday. Actually we were looking for that rare beast, a proper Scotch Pie. We did manage to catch a pair of young ones in Forres. Unfortunately being young they were bereft of the spiciness of the more mature beasts. The general consensus being. "not too bad, but the hunt goes on". Anyway that's enough on expeditions to find the perfect hot water pastry based comestible. Hopefully you've got all your penguins in a row. Ready for a weekend of fun, frolic and any other fine, fullsome, friendly or just ferk'n funny Fs you can think of.

On talking. Nov. 17

Morning folkses. Welcome to Wednesday. Maybe we could call it Waffling Wednesday. A day when folks like me who have a predilection for talking to anybody and anything could prattle on without recourse. A license to talk rubbish as it were. In my time I've talked to a whole bunch of different things, I've sworn at my car, growled at the dog and even purred at the cat. I've also been known to talk to other peoples vehicles, especially the ones that are coming towards me when I'm crossing the road. Words to the effect of "Please slow down and be patient driver, I'll get to the other side soon enough. The feckers that toot their horns? I have a very special look reserved for them...

Macskwizzy.

Macskwizzy. My alter ego.

On 2022. Jan. 22

Evening y'all.... and good grief if it isn't 2022 already. Doesn't seem that long since last year. Anyway..... How are you enjoying the year so far? Poor to fair, fair to middlin' or middlin' to good? Most of you seem pretty undecided. I suppose that's to be expected considering the year's only a few days old. But it is important to remember, if you don't start liking it soon, you're going to be stuck not liking it for the duration. Neither can you just say you like it, if you don't. Cos then you're going to be caught up in a fib for the duration as above. And everybody knows that's going to bring fire and brimstone down on you from upon high..... Okay maybe not fire and brimstone, but a bitty dust falling of the lampshade is close enough. Okay...! I figure I've wasted enough of your time by creating this load of nonsense so you could cast your peepers over it. We actually hope you like 2022, cos it's all we've got for the next 360 odd days. So have a good one and remember.... Just 'cos it paints it's toenails red and hides in cherry trees. It doesn't mean it can't be an elephant.

Incidentally...! Do you realise it's been 800 years since we last had a year with three twos in it and there's only a hundred years till the next one. Full of useless information, me...