On fitness by comparison. Oct. 19

Morning y'all. I trust you're all fit as the proverbial. I say this despite not knowing how fit a proverbial should be, or even what the proverbial is. The proverbial might not be very fit at all. In which case my assuming you're as fit as the proverbial, while not knowing the condition the proverbial is in, could mean I was implying you're all gone to seed and that wouldn't be very nice of me at all now.... would it?.

So lets have a wee look at three different definitions of As fit as...

As a fiddle - Surely it's the fiddle player who's the fit one cos I've never seen a fiddle doing the 100m dash....

As a butcher's dog - Surely the dog would get a little on the podgy side, what with all the scrag ends and meaty treats his master throws his way....

As a flea - This is more like it, a flea could definitely be considered fit. It can jump 7" vertically and 13" horizontally. So extrapolate that to a human and you could jump a decent sized building or a wide river. But!! There are drawbacks. You get out of a chair a bit sharpish, BANG!!! you've gone through the ceiling and surprised your other half upstairs in the bath. Jump over a puddle, god knows where you'll end up. Try crossing the road in one jump you'll have to ca' canny. Get it wrong and SPLAT!!! you're plastered all over the side of a passing double-decker bus heading to Dingwall. Or anywhere else for that matter.

So when you consider all the options, maybe it's best to be, "as fit as you are". Have a good one folks...

Looking over Portree to the Old Man of Storr

On greetin' daced. May 21

Good evening y'all. Are we well? You are... that's good. I'd hate to think you were all crabbit, doon in the mooth, or fair to middlin' greetin' faced. Isn't the Scots language wonderful, all these different definitions of a sour puss. Mind you avoiding folks in these states of mind is highly recommended. Cos they do have this terrible tendency to harsh your mellow and other such nonsense. So all I can advise is.... Stay happy and smile y'all. You know it makes sense.

On silliness. Dec. 23

Afternoon folkses and how are we this fine Saturday? You're all good! Excellent that's what we like to hear. Now that you've all committed to being good you can't take it back. What do you mean you never said a word. I'm positively, absolutely and definitely, almost sure you all said you were good. Right!... That's enough of the silliness, you couldn't write this nonsense. Wait a minute I just did. Ach well, tha sin mar sin and that's life etc...

On Mole Day. Oct. 17

How are you all on this fine Monday morning? Looks like a decent Mole Day. Yes folks it's the day you've been waiting for. It's a day for celebrating these little velvet coated, pointy snouted, powerful pawed, little sods who throw up little earth mountains on your immaculately coffuired lawn overnight. These little creatures who are prone to munching the odd worm or three are of course much beloved by your local greenkeepers. Who refer to them lovingly using anglo-saxon words genteel ears should never be subject to. So for today love your mole, put a little plate of slugs and worms out for them. They will of course appreciate the extra protein and dig extra large molehills, but as it's Mole Day you won't mind. Honest!
It's also I-Pod Day and TV Talkshow Day but these are just silly made up days so they don't count...

On heat waves in Scotland. Sep. 23

Evening y'all. I take it most of you are in TGIF mode and looking forward to whatever you have planned over the piece. For me it really needs to cool down a bitty... as I'm in danger of looking like the Michelin Man.
We Scots were never meant to be brown. Peellie-wallie blue is our natural colour, taps aff periods were certainly never meant to last this long and we shouldn't really be seeing all them lobsters wandering the streets. I might also mention that I've never before seen so many belly-buttons of so many shapes and sizes in one single day. Now I know I'm getting old (getting, he says) and sadly I'm no longer the tall slim figure in motorcyle leathers I used to be. But I can still appreciate the sight of scantily dressed maidens getting some sun on those parts you never get to see over the winter. Girls... might I also take this opporchancity to point out... While I'm the first one to accept you're all bonny in your own particular way. If you're going to wear a tad less due to the weather, some of you might want to apply a bit of common. Or at the very least... have a wee glance in the mirror before you leave the house. Pleeease.....!
Don't take this too much to heart ladies. It's only a bit of gentle chiding from an auld eejit who still thinks lassies are the best thing to have happened to us menfolk, since Adam was a snot-nosed wean. Maggie Thatcher, Suella Braverman and one or three others aside.
Right that's enough of my observations on the weather, I have no doubt it will get back to a Heilan' normal in the not too distant future. Stay safe y'all...
Rogie Falls Wood.

Rogie Falls Wood. Ross-shire.

On the North Wind. Nov. 17

Morning folks and welcome to Sunday. The sun's shining and there's a fine cap of snow on the Ben. Ben Wyvis that is, for those of you asking yourselves "whit Ben?". It all looks very nice and photogenic, but here's the rub. It's all a deliberate ploy to get you outside. Because what you might not be aware of is the North Wind. Now that North Wind is out to get us all. Well not me, cos I'm staying in bed, but it is out to get the rest of you.
You'll finish the eggs, bacon, two sausages, beans and two rounds of toast. Down the remainder of your tea, put down the Sunday paper, stand up and have a wee stretch while wandering over to the nearest double-glazed window. Once there you'll take in the vista of beautiful sunshine glistening on snow capped mountains and announce "It's a lovely day, let's all go for a walk!". Loved ones faces turn towards you as one, yes let's! they agree with enthusiasm. The dog upon hearing the W word also leaps around excitedly. So you all don winter coats, woolly hats and gloves, attach the dogs lead, to the dog of course, and step out into the winter sunshine.
All is well at this point as you feel the sun on your faces and you happily turn out of the gate and head for the local park. Now all goes well as you stroll the hundred yards or so past the shops and houses that make up your street. The children are laughing, your wife smiles at you lovingly, her hand comfortable in yours and the dog is straining impatiently at the leash.
Eventually you reach your road end and turn north towards the park. It's at this point you are assaulted by a blast of cold that rocks your world and forces you to bend forward 45 degrees just to stay upright. You grab the children as they stagger backwards and clasping their coat collars you soldier on, still convinced this was a good idea. After 10 minutes or so your wife's smile has turned into a grimace, her and the childrens eyes are wide, frozen open might be more accurate. The wind is finding it's way into even the tiniest gaps in your clothing, reaching parts that other winds have never reached. Meanwhile the dog is seeking a modicum of shelter by hiding behind your legs, eyes slitted against the unseen fury that has straightened his tail and folded his frost-tipped ears back against his head.
Some distance further on you reach a shop doorway and dive in gratefully. Sheltered from the maelstrom you seek to gather strength for the last stage. But somehow you feel your family is not with you. Your wife is glaring at you balefully, your children have frozen tears and their noses are streaming causing their faces to resemble glazed doughnuts The dog? well I can't tell you what the dog said. Looking up the road, you make a futile attempt to argue that the park is only 50 yards further on. You turn round only to discover your beloved has hailed a passing taxi and she and the kids are rapidly disappearing homeward, leaving you and the dog alone. You make an effort to move towards your original goal but the dog refuses to budge, obstinately fastening his rear end to the ground. You realise he is only going to get off his rear if you make for home. So you give in to the inevitable and prepare yourself mentally for the return journey.
Stepping out of the doorway you immediately find yourself going back the way you came considerably faster than you were going on the way out and the icy wind is finding it's way into all the little nooks and crannies it missed the first time around. Looking down at the dog, you see he looks thoroughly miserable trotting along beside you with his tail between his legs. You think, surely he should be happy as we're heading back. Unbeknowns to you he is happy, but he's trying to stop the wind from blowing him inside out.
Anyway, in very short order you turn into your own street at which point the howling gale suddenly ceases and you stagger into a more natural walking pace. Without further incident you finally reach and pass through your front door. Silently rejoicing as you feel the warmth of the central heating wash over you like a warm blanket.
But wait! Something is wrong, your children are definitely not pleased to see you and your wife is giving you the silent treatment. In essence you're about as welcome as a fart in the proverbial phonebox. It is patently obvious, that to them, you and you alone are to blame for their recent ordeal. So you sit in your chair and gaze out the window. Once again taking in the vista of beautiful sunshine glistening on snow capped mountains. But this time you harrumph loudly, and bury yourself behind the Sunday paper, sadly contemplating the unfairness of life. Yes folks, finally my little tale is finished and yes it did get away from me a little. The moral of this story? The North Wind, always remember the North Wind...

Clachan Sands, North Uist.

On inspirational snippets. Mar. 23

Top of the morning to you all and I trust all your capercaillies are in a row. I meant to put this up last week but the brain stored it away on the wrong shelf.
Maggie and I in were Sneckie last week perusing of the charity shops and suchlike. When we were done and on the way back to the van, herself fancies a hot chocolate from the wee caff in the market. So while she's sorting that I take a wee trundle across the way to the hairdresser come trinket shop. While scrutinizing of the window display, I spy amongst the Ortak and other shiny bits and bobs, some mugs, with what appear to be little inspirational snippets on them. Most of it pretty twee stuff, intended, I presume to make you feel better while you partake of your favourite hot tipple. Coffee, tea, horlicks, mulled wine and suchlike. Anyhoo.... During the two minutes or so I spent absorbing these little motivational gems, one in particular caught my eye. It's message being.....
"If it's raining, look for rainbows, If it's dark look for stars....."
You know what my first thought was.....? What do you do if it's dark and chucking it down?
Now I have to wonder. Does that say they hadn't really thought their little gem through or something about the way I think?
Answers on the back of a postage stamp please. On second thoughts just answer here. Stamps cost too ferk'n much...

On sharing the sun. Sep. 21

Well!!.. feasgar math and good evening to you all. There's a wee bit shortage of sunshine over here on the Uists. In fact I'd go as far as to say, there's no sunshine over here on the Uists. And I do feel strongly that you folks on the mainland should learn to share a little bit. I'm going to say no more about it. Hopefully you'll all do the right thing and I can look forward to enjoying the sun tomorrow.

On getting there. Aug. 21

Afternoon y'all. I trust you're all just hunky dory and rarin' to go. Doesn't matter where you're rarin' to go, as long as you get there. Getting there should always be the end result. Not getting there, not really what you want. Unless the there you got to was a better there than the there you were initially trying to get to. Should that have been the case, then getting to that there, was obviously a better result than your first there, wherever that there was. So basically what I'm saying is I hope you got there, but not to a there you didn't want. Only to the there you preferred. I think that makes sense.Right that's enough about that/those/these theres. We'll get back to the here. Apols for being awol, but the usual nonsense meant that real-life reared it's ugly whotsit. Personally I could do without it, but it isn't really up to me. So... c'est la vie and that's life etc...

On meerkats. jun. 21

Morning folks, are you all happy as meerkats in a happy meerkat hoose on happy meerkat day? You are... that's good. So I expect you're all sitting upright on your hunkers with your paws in front of you. Just like your mammy checking for dirty hands when you were a wean. Makes for an interesting mental image that does. Anyway.... that's your task for today. Look over at your workmates, friends, other half, kids or whatever and picture them sitting like meerkats. If you do and it makes you smile. Then your head's in the right place..... Stay safe and keep smiling y'all. It's the only way...

North Kessock from Clachnaharry

Of that ilk. May 21

Good evening folks. Are we all just fair to middling hunky dory, doing alright, fine and dandy and sundry other phrases of that ilk. You are...... that's good. It makes me happy to know you're all of that ilk. Even tho' there has been many a heated discussion amongst the learned, know-it-all types as to what exactly 'that ilk' is. We, the hoi-polloi, are generally considered to know precisely what 'that ilk' is. And it's held to be very bad form indeed for the learned and know-it-alls to ask sane and sensible folks, like ourselves, the definition of 'that ilk'. This, of course, is not to establish whether we know or not, but there may be some learned, know-it-all, type listening in and we can't have them finding out. Can we? Stay safe y'all...

On the coming of spring. May 21

Good afternoon folkses. Are we all well and when is spring going to arrive? First question will be easy enough, second one not so much. Cos jings, crivvens and help ma whatsits, we're still getting new snow on the ruddy Ben. (Ben Wyvis for those of you unfamiliar with our local mountain.) I'm pretty sure thon mannie upstairs is taking the wee-wee, so a wee bitty shout for spring is definitely on the to-do list. Do you think spring can actually hear things? If it can't, then there's not an awful lot of point giving it a shout, is there? Be about as much use as finding yourself in the middle of a pride of hungry lions armed with only a ladle and a paper hankie. What could you do with a ladle and a hankie? I hear you shout. Well you bonk one of the lions on the head with the ladle and use the hankie to wipe the blood off your face when it smacks you round the ear for taking liberties. Stay safe y'all...

On being fair to middlin' Aug. 21

Feasgar math folkses, how are we all? Fair to middlin' appears to be the general response. That's good.... not a lot wrong with fair to middlin' unless you're more middlin' than fair. Don't think you can complain if your too fair. Especially if some folks have had to take your middlin', cos you've got a bitty too much in the way of fair. So spare a thought for those unfortunates who happen to have a lot more middlin' than fair, or even no fair at all. In fact some of these folks could actually be middlin' to bad but looking at that state of affairs in detail could be pretty stressful. Especially for those folks who are edging just a wee tad too far in the direction of bad. Does this make sense? No...! Then my job is done...

On the Hunchback of Whotsit. Jan. 21

Evening all. Are we all just happy, happy people, or, miserable so and so's? Aahh! Varying degrees of in between appears to be the prevailing verdict. I suppose it's to be expected really.
I did manage to inflict some serious pain on myself, Saturday, but not on purpose I hasten to add. Hopefully you'll be pleased to learn we're a tad better today and not looking like the hunchback of whotsit is to be considered a vast improvement. So my advice to you all is not to take after the gentleman from Notre Dame, no matter how many fair and helpless Esmerelda's there are. On a similar note isn't it strange how many male, literary and cinematic characters become croppers on rushing to the assistance of their own particular Esmerelda's. Maybe they're trying to tell us something? Answers on a postcard please.

On being scathed. Jan. 21

Good evening folks, I trust we've all arrived at the end of the week relatively unscathed. You have.....!! That's excellent! cos being scathed is not very pleasant at all, you can take my word for it. I've been scathed several times now and consquently am quite familiar with some of the many different scathes out there. It also has to be said I can't impart any details of these experiences, as they're all subject to 'keep yer mooth shut' regulations. But I can tell you they're all considerably worse than fighting your way through five miles of bramble thicket wearing only khaki shorts, a string simmet and open-toed sandals, with socks...... So stay safe and unscathed y'all, you know it makes sense...

On Wedfnesdays. Nov. 19

Morning folks and welcome to Wednesday. I trust you're all well and having an all right kinda Wednesday. Wednesdays are odd days aren't they. Here we are half-way through the working week and you think you've got the week licked. But you haven't have you, you've still got two days to go... Not only that, you've already had two days before you even got this far. Which TBH is okay if you've had a wonderful week but not so good if you're having the worst week. So if you're having a wonderful week we hope it stays that way and if you're having the worst week.... think positive. It can only get better. Have a good one y'all...

On individuality. Jun. 20

Greetings and salutations to all and sundry. You can decide for yourselves who is all and who is sundry. Generally you may decide to be part of all, but the inescapable fact that you are only one person should immediately preclude you from being all. Unless... much like a bee you believe yourself to be part of a collective. Individual bees, are of course, part of a collective. They probably don't see themselves as part of a collective, possibly because they don't understand collective. Just as it wouldn't be too much of a stretch of the imagination to consider that bees don't use the words workers, drones and scouts. Primarily because the words, workers, drones and scouts, are our words, not bee ones. But the question remains..... Can one bee from a hive be a truly individual bee? To be honest I don't know, cos I don't speak bee. Have a good one folks...

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