Bits and Bobs
A collection of semi-random short notes
Whither the Weather?
One of the interesting things about living in Scotland is that the weather is taken rather more seriously than we consider necessary. Every time the temperature drops below 39 degrees our car pings at us, to warn us that there may be ice on the roads and potential snow. If rain is expected, the weather forecast warns us of 'potential disruptions'; this has a 'boy who cried wolf' effect.
The wind blows all the time in Edinburgh, but this was something exceptional. We saw many broken trees, and some branches a foot in diameter were down. The park rangers were busy for the next few days clearing it all up, in time for the next event planned in the park. The Queen's garden party in Holyrood Palace is on the horizon. (Our invitation still hasn't arrived--do you think it possible that she has forgotten her next door neighbours? Naah, I'm sure it's just a minor postal delay.)
(We are not really her next door neighbours if you walk along the road, only if you cut across the park, in which case the palace has lots and lots of next door neighbours.)
Just flowers, and a doorway
We are told repeatedly that from time to time you should stop and smell the flowers, so I did. To be precise I didn't smell them so much as just stop to admire them, and take a quick photo. this is some of the most glorious blue I have seen in yonks.
But if you really want a stunning array of floral exuberance here is an establishment called Brewhemia, that has decorated entrances.
Yes, this is a drinking establishment.
Auld Reekie
A notable feature of the Edinburgh city skyline is the profusion of chimney pots. A normal house will have a few, a large house could have six to twelve. This speaks to the Scottish climate (cold) and the Scottish engineering ability to control their environment for their comfort (fires in every room). It also explains Edinburgh's affectionate nickname, 'Auld Reekie'. This could be translated as Old Smoky, or more forthrightly, Old Stinky. The name is attributed to the Scottish laird, Durham of Largo, who would look from the highlands across the Forth and see the pall of smoke over Edinburgh city and use the following as a bedtime signal for his children, "It's time now bairns, to tak' the beuks, and gang to our beds, for yonder's Auld Reekie, I see, putting on her nicht-cap!"
Edinburgh has other nicknames. "The Athens of the North" celebrates the city's place in the Scottish Enlightenment, which included some remarkable people and accomplishments--it was not accidental that the chief engineer in the early Star Trek episodes was Scotty. But a kinder, gentler nickname is the affectionate sobriquet Embra.
Edinburgh's golden age, the Athens of the North
Edinburgh is proud of its poets. Some of them are earthy and very much 'of the people' like Robert Burns (or Rabbie Burrns, with your best fake Scottish accent, if you prefer). Some are loftier and dreamily romantic, like Sir Walter Scott, and some of them are poetically tragic but very, very Scottish.
Robert Ferguson was a notable member of the enlightenment poetry group. He died at age 24 in Bedlam, which is very poetically tragic. The base of his statue quotes the first few lines of his ode to Edinburgh (in the vernacular, of course).
Auld Reikie, wale o' ilka toun
That Scotland kens beneath the moon!
Whare couthy chiels at e'ening meet
Their bizzing craigs and mous to weet;
And blythly gar auld care gae by
Wi' blinkit and wi' bleering eye:
A rough translation would be
"Old Stinky, best of any town that Scotland knows under the moon. where braggarts meet in the evening, their babbling necks and mouths to wet, and blithely let all care go by, with blinking and bleary eyes."
And continues on for another 360 lines describing daily life in his favourite city, Embra. His statue is on the Royal Mile.
Learning appreciation
We are currently on our third car, affectionately named Tertia. We started off our mission with an almost new car, but then some missionaries were reaching their 50,000 mile limit (we keep cars for 50,000 miles then trade them for new ones) so we swapped cars with them, so they could take our new car up to the islands. They managed to ding it after a day or two, so it didn't look new any more. We drove their car for a week or two until Tertia arrived. She looked exactly the same as the other cars (the people in the Area office, who buy the cars, are singularly lacking in imagination) so we were not exactly excited about our new car. Add to this the annoying habit of this model of Hyundai of failing to accelerate when you most need it to - you put your foot on the accelerator, and 98 % of the time the car moves. It's only the other 2% that we object to, as the failure to move can be dangerous as well as embarrassing. Anyway, all three of the cars have had the same habit, as do the Hyundai's driven by all the other missionaries we have spoken with. This habit does put a little bit of a damper on our relationship with our car.
It took us just a few days to get our brand new car, not exactly dinged, but certainly thoroughly scratched with some vandal's key in a supermarket parking lot. We took it off to a repair place to be looked at, and about six weeks later they invited us to bring the car in to be repaired. It would take a couple of days to fix, so they very kindly lent us a car to drive in the meantime, a little red Toyota Aygo. We drove the car as little as possible. Richard quickly adjusted to the manual transmission, but it is small and not very comfortable. In fact, we decided that if we did not have our "own" car back by the weekend, we would not go anywhere on Saturday but stay firmly in our flat just to avoid having to drive the miserable rotten little car. The only nice thing about it is it is much narrower than our regular car, and thus easier to manoeuvre on narrow roads.
On Friday, we got our nice, comfortable, quiet Tertia back. By today she had almost killed us (twice) by failing to accelerate while we were trying to pull off in heavy traffic, but who cares? She is much better than the Aygo. And this is how we are learning new depths of appreciation on our mission.
(We are not really her next door neighbours if you walk along the road, only if you cut across the park, in which case the palace has lots and lots of next door neighbours.)
Just flowers, and a doorway
We are told repeatedly that from time to time you should stop and smell the flowers, so I did. To be precise I didn't smell them so much as just stop to admire them, and take a quick photo. this is some of the most glorious blue I have seen in yonks.
But if you really want a stunning array of floral exuberance here is an establishment called Brewhemia, that has decorated entrances.
Yes, this is a drinking establishment.
Auld Reekie
 |
| A single (large) house. 16 chimneys visible, more on the other side. |
Edinburgh has other nicknames. "The Athens of the North" celebrates the city's place in the Scottish Enlightenment, which included some remarkable people and accomplishments--it was not accidental that the chief engineer in the early Star Trek episodes was Scotty. But a kinder, gentler nickname is the affectionate sobriquet Embra.
Edinburgh's golden age, the Athens of the North
Edinburgh is proud of its poets. Some of them are earthy and very much 'of the people' like Robert Burns (or Rabbie Burrns, with your best fake Scottish accent, if you prefer). Some are loftier and dreamily romantic, like Sir Walter Scott, and some of them are poetically tragic but very, very Scottish.
Robert Ferguson was a notable member of the enlightenment poetry group. He died at age 24 in Bedlam, which is very poetically tragic. The base of his statue quotes the first few lines of his ode to Edinburgh (in the vernacular, of course).Auld Reikie, wale o' ilka toun
That Scotland kens beneath the moon!
Whare couthy chiels at e'ening meet
Their bizzing craigs and mous to weet;
And blythly gar auld care gae by
Wi' blinkit and wi' bleering eye:
A rough translation would be
"Old Stinky, best of any town that Scotland knows under the moon. where braggarts meet in the evening, their babbling necks and mouths to wet, and blithely let all care go by, with blinking and bleary eyes."
And continues on for another 360 lines describing daily life in his favourite city, Embra. His statue is on the Royal Mile.
Learning appreciation
We are currently on our third car, affectionately named Tertia. We started off our mission with an almost new car, but then some missionaries were reaching their 50,000 mile limit (we keep cars for 50,000 miles then trade them for new ones) so we swapped cars with them, so they could take our new car up to the islands. They managed to ding it after a day or two, so it didn't look new any more. We drove their car for a week or two until Tertia arrived. She looked exactly the same as the other cars (the people in the Area office, who buy the cars, are singularly lacking in imagination) so we were not exactly excited about our new car. Add to this the annoying habit of this model of Hyundai of failing to accelerate when you most need it to - you put your foot on the accelerator, and 98 % of the time the car moves. It's only the other 2% that we object to, as the failure to move can be dangerous as well as embarrassing. Anyway, all three of the cars have had the same habit, as do the Hyundai's driven by all the other missionaries we have spoken with. This habit does put a little bit of a damper on our relationship with our car.
It took us just a few days to get our brand new car, not exactly dinged, but certainly thoroughly scratched with some vandal's key in a supermarket parking lot. We took it off to a repair place to be looked at, and about six weeks later they invited us to bring the car in to be repaired. It would take a couple of days to fix, so they very kindly lent us a car to drive in the meantime, a little red Toyota Aygo. We drove the car as little as possible. Richard quickly adjusted to the manual transmission, but it is small and not very comfortable. In fact, we decided that if we did not have our "own" car back by the weekend, we would not go anywhere on Saturday but stay firmly in our flat just to avoid having to drive the miserable rotten little car. The only nice thing about it is it is much narrower than our regular car, and thus easier to manoeuvre on narrow roads.
On Friday, we got our nice, comfortable, quiet Tertia back. By today she had almost killed us (twice) by failing to accelerate while we were trying to pull off in heavy traffic, but who cares? She is much better than the Aygo. And this is how we are learning new depths of appreciation on our mission.
We have some downed branches on our street, too. Maybe the same wind blew across the globe!
ReplyDeleteThose blue flowers are beautiful! And I appreciate the translation of the poem. It was fun to read it and glance up at the corresponding Scottish text. I look forward to hearing your testimony in your mission language when you come home and speak in church ;)
ReplyDeleteOch, awa wi' ee' lassie. Dinnae be sa glaikit!
Delete