“I SHOULD BE SO LUCKY (SO LUCKY, SO LUCKY)”

Oh well, it’s November all right.   Here it is raining and cold in Bonnie Scotland.   The leaves are shades of orange and yellow, lots are still on the trees in Lochardil, Inverness, but a good percentage of them are now lying around the paths of the garden, and along the streets.    In some ways Autumn is sad   -----

‘And the Autumn weather turns the leaves to flame,   And I haven’t got time for the waiting game.’

I think it was John Houston that sang September Song in some film or other.  He was finding it melancholy trying to have a love affair and realising it was probably going to be kind of heartbreaking for an aged person.

Really I am lucky,  -----  old as I am.   I mean I am having steak and sausages for my meal tonight.   Me and Gerald.   And we will watch TV and try not to eat too many chocolates.    The freezer if full of waiting meals for my guests tomorrow – sister (Stella) and brother-in-law (Stephen), and sister-in-law (Irene) she, from another era, like the nineteen fifties.   Anyhow, we will laugh, drink, eat and be merry because 23^rd November is my birthday.   So that can’t be bad.

Unlucky is to be in the Gaza Strip, or Israel with rockets and bombs going off, people injured and dying, and whole buildings being smashed up.   Politicians try to help to get some form of compromise going in this latest upheaval in the Middle East.   Hillary Clinton, Tony Blair, the Prime Minister of Egypt.   They have a Cease-Fire just yesterday and today, but people don’t believe it will last.  

‘And the days dwindle down to a precious few, September, November, And

these few precious days, I’ll spend with you.   These golden days, I’ll spend with you!’

 That’s what I’ll sing to Gerald tonight, Well maybe, if we can stop  arguing about, you name it, we can make an argument out of it – all in a good cause, of course.

He has been making a flat-pack shelf-unit I bought from a catalogue.   Swearing, of course, as the instructions were incomplete, obscure, and WRONG!   In his dressing-gown as usual, and kneeling in the hallway, he announced to me that the illustrations were wrong, and that the screws DID NOT FIT!.   ‘They’re never wrong, dear’, says I.   But no flies on himself, he goes and looks the catalogue up on the computer, still cursing me, and finds out what?   THE INSTRUCTIONS WERE WRONG!!  Oh well, the unit is completed now and looks as if it had always stood in the kitchen holding Cookery Books.

Reading a library book called  “To Travel Hopefully” by  Christopher Rush.   It is about the author who, after the sudden death of his young wife with undiagnosed breast cancer,  he is devastated and experiencing a tragic time of it, almost a mental breakdown.   Eventually, he decides to make a change in his life, really to get his life back.   He makes up his mind to follow in the footsteps of R. L. Stevenson, and to go walking in France in the Cevennes with a donkey.   You may remember the book is called “Travels with a Donkey”.   I remember reading it in school when I was about thirteen.   It had been translated into French and we had to learn to read it in class in French in school.   The author, Christopher Rush’s experiences are quite fascinating, once you work your way through the devastation of his bereavement in Edinburgh with two young children.   However, I stuck it out and now he has just got his donkey and is getting ready to start alone on his journey through the lonely hills of South West France.   Good luck!   Bad luck!   We all get our share.   Let’s hope good luck holds for me over the weekend, the month even, and maybe until my next birthday.

As they used to say in Scotland in the olden days, when we had coal fires.   “Lang may your lum reek!”   which translated means “Long may your chimney smoke!”   And Christmas is only 32 days away!    Yipee!  Good luck to all my distant relatives and friends who find the time to read this!!

PROVOCATIVE THOUGHTS OF A GUEST BLOGGER

This is a “guest” blog – and the guest is the Gerald that the true blogger, Margaret Dunlop, refers to from time to time.  Gerald is of course the husband of long-suffering Margaret.

So here goes:  I have no claims on literary merit – as will become clear in the next few paragraphs.  My claims to writing are a couple of scientific textbooks, one on animal breeding and one on the yak – yes, that bovine that is the mainstay of the mostly Tibetan herdsmen and their families in the mountainous regions of Western China.  That in addition to a bevy of scientific papers in the field of animal genetics – and anyone with an acquaintance with scientific papers would agree that such writing is a mile away from literature.

It may seem strange to our American friends and relations that I should take an interest in the politics of the USA.  But what a sigh of relief went up – probably across much of Europe and other parts of the world – when the US electorate bade farewell to Mitt Romney.  Perhaps he was misrepresented in the media here but the impression came across that here was a man dedicated to assisting the already rich and caring little about the welfare of those struggling at the bottom of the heap.  Sure, there are some feckless among the latter, but many at the poorer end of society are trapped in a condition from which only a minority can break free.  And yet we owe respect and concern for the wellbeing of our fellows and most especially for the vulnerable and the sick.  Perhaps the majority of the American electorate felt this - and that compassion did not equate with the Romney intention to repeal Obama’s modest health care reforms, or the fact that intended tax breaks would benefit the rich much more than those in the middle.   Furthermore, Romney’s foreign policy (if he didn’t make it up on the hoof), especially for the Middle East, could arguably head us towards conflagration and potential disaster – perhaps the majority of electors realised that too. 

Mind you, in respect of domestic policies, some of the apparent Romney philosophy pervades part of our Tory-led government in the UK – which is a godsend to the Scottish Nationalists as they know that these attitudes are alien to the vast majority of Scots and thus aid the SNP’s ill-judged attempt to separate us from the rest of the United Kingdom.   David Cameron (the UK prime-minister) must be just about the best recruiting agent for Scottish Independence.  Pity he does not seem to recognize that.

Away from Politics, I am astounded by the huge number of TV chefs imparting their culinary wisdom.  But what amazes me is that in spite of this onslaught we are told that a majority of the population don’t do any real cooking and rely on ready meals and junk food – thank goodness for Margaret, in this house.

We were all appalled by the hurricanes and storms afflicting much of the American east coast and beyond and hugely saddened by the misery and loss caused to millions of people.  Folk often complain about the “miserable” Scottish climate (we were recently told that the average daily sunshine was only 3.1 hours).  But it’s so temperate, the grass is green, drought is rare, we rejoice when the sun does shine and we are spared extremes.  Let’s hope that climate change does not alter all that.

A final disclaimer:  Margaret has no responsibility whatever for any for the views expressed in this blog and will hopefully return with saner words soon – once she has finished re-organising the kitchen, making curtains with the most difficult material ever and other self-imposed tasks.

CONSIDER  THE ROSES AND THE PORTUGESE LAUREL

Well, at present Gerald is busy planting two rambling roses in the garden against the wall which I look out on from my usual position at the kitchen sink.    Yesterday he gave a second coat of white paint to the same wall.   It looks great now although the activity exhausted the poor soul.   This same 7feet high wall used to be covered with clinging ivy.   Always it was green and cheery with, in summer, blackbirds flying out from their nests, and blue tits swerving in and out of it.   But, last winter the snow brought half of it down, Peter and Shirley next door pulled it up again from their side, however, during this so-called summer with rain and high winds, the hedge fell down again.   So we are planting stuff against the wall to make it glamorous and attractive.   G. is just off the phone and to please me he has purchased a Prunus lusitanica (Portugese laurel), a gorgeous tree with purplish leaves.   It’s already about 7feet tall, so I am excited about that.    Small events please small minds I hear you say, but I look out of my window often and I might be like Prince Charles and talk to my plants to keep me and them happy.  

So, it is the end of the Ivy and the beginning of the Prunus and the new roses.   It seems to be the end of a lot of things from my point of view.   I just finished knitting a very expensive Fair Isle scarf.   It is almost 5feet long, (I was starting to go wonky with it so couldn’t quite make the suggested length).   It has taken at least a year and is composed of eleven different colours of wool. And about twenty differing patterns.   Like the ivy hedge, I am sorry and glad at the same time that the scarf has come to an end.   I hope to wear it in the cold weather just to show it off.

What about the badgers that the government had intended to slaughter?  They wanted to kill at least 70% of these poor animals (in one area) because many of them are said to have tuberculosis, and with this they are infecting many of our cattle herds in the UK.   Very hard on the cows and the farmers as the animals (not the farmers) are immediately slaughtered if they test positive to TB.   Anyway the cull has been postponed for a year because the task of killing so many lovely badgers is proving too difficult and  too large to start on at this time of year.   But another end is coming.

Let us hope it is not soon to be the end of President Obama’s term in office in the USA.   I prefer his politics and his outlook on life.   Ask yourself which one of the two contenders has most experience of the struggles and hardships of the majority of the people who make up the population.   I would say Obama.   He is a family man and, relative to his opponent, is not, I think, rolling in money.   On the other hand the Republican candidate, Mitt Romney, a multi millionaire, seems to have a very easy position in life and ……..   well, he appeals less to me, what little I know of him, than does the Democrat Leader.

One end I am sure you will be glad about, as I am, is that of Jimmy Savile.   What a horror that man is proving to have been!   Too bad that he is dead in a way, because he is not around to hear how much he is despised and hated for his paedophile activities.   He confused many people because of his smokescreen of raising millions for charity. It’s hard to get one’s head around the contradiction. But some people knew his game.   They should have spoken out   The children and young girls should have been listened to.   The monster  should have been caught and put in jail.   He has brought shame on the country, on the BBC, and even the charities that received the money feel so tainted that they are disbanding and giving the money anonymously to other good causes.

Holy Moses!   Where will it all end?   Talking about swearing, I did just that last night at the beginning of the News on the BBC when I thought that Celtic, Glasgow’s football team, had beaten the mighty Barcelona.        1 – 0 for Celtic the announcer said.      “Bloody hell!” I said.   But by the end of the news, we were informed that in the dying minutes of the game, the famous Spanish team had turned a coveted 1 -1 draw for Celtic  to 2 – 1 for Barcelona.   I was so disappointed!     I needed a Gin and Tonic to revive me.   So many things seem to be going wrong.   My mother used to say, “The back is made for the burden”, especially if she was referring to women with many children.   Anyway enough of this ranting.    “The end is nigh!”   I shall just  have to concentrate on my Prunus lusitanica and my rambling roses.   Oh I must not forget the Tweeting Birds (mechanical) which I left on by mistake, in the summer-house where they live.   They scared life out of Gerald yesterday as he passed and the three tweeted at once.

ATTACK IS THE BEST FORM OF DEFENCE

I like Barack Obama, and I am sorry that at his head-to-head discussion with the Republican leader in the USA, he came off worst.   This shows how difficult it is to get your message across.   We know that Obama is on the side of the most deprived in society.   We know that he has spent much energy in trying to achieve a better Health Programme for those most in need of support in accessing Health Care.   And yet Romney, who reportedly has a low opinion of those on whom hard times and poverty have fallen, wins the debate, or so the media pundits tell us.  Let’s hope the next two debates give Obama a better outcome.    He should be ready to go on the attack from the first seconds, just as Romney did.   As they used to advise young teachers when irate parents appeared at the door of the classroom, “Attack is the best form of defence!”   For example say, “I am afraid Mrs. Smith wee Jimmy is impertinent, and may be said to be slow in the uptake and DIFFICULT TO TEACH!”   This to be said before she has time to speak.

The same goes for the politics of the United Kingdom.   I support Ed Milliband and of course, therefore, find fault with David Cameron and George Osborne and their mates.   So I wish Ed to be ever-ready for the attacks that will surely come against him in the future.   The cleverest person in the world can be floored in front of an audience by an opponent’s or an interviewer’s carefully and slyly thought up question .   It takes time, seconds, minutes, even hours to present a cogent answer to sharp and cleverly-thrown up questions.   I have long been of the opinion that TV debates are unfair and that the best actor often wins.   Am I wrong in believing that Nick Clegg and David Cameron looked young, good-looking and almost charming against the tired and older worn-down Gordon Brown when they debated as a threesome and Brown was beaten down by their savoir-faire?

Enough of politics and opinions!   I have my own troubles.   For example, to stop enjoying my food so much, and to keep my promise to go down a dress size this month.   Also to stick to the suggested amount of liquor suitable for a lady.   (no laughing!).   Well I just remember St. Augustine’s prayer all those centuries ago as the Holy Man, living the life of a monk, and devoted to follow the life of Jesus, he tried to contain his lust for the pleasures of the flesh   -   he prayed, “Oh Lord, give me Chastity and Continence -  BUT NOT YET.”

My sainted Mother, Honor, (God, rest her soul) used to say, “We all have our own ways of going daft!” and I think she had a point.   So endeth the lesson.  

Today in Inversneckie - Troubles afoot!

Well today I seem to have what I believe the Germans call a ‘worm’ in my ear, or they call it something like that.   It is the repetition of a tune.    My worm is saying or singing:

“Oh I love to climb a mountain,    And to reach the highest peak.   But it doesn’t thrill me half as much as dancing cheek to cheek.   Heaven!   I’m in heaven,    And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.   And I seem to find the happiness I seek.   When we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek."   

Shades of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.   God knows who I think I’m dancing with but I keep on singing along to it.   What a sad ass I am.

Why I should be so happy I do not know because I have had a few bad experiences this week.   Worst was in the hateful Inverness main post office.   There I arrived at 3.25pm on Friday with a small parcel to post.   A queue of about 20 people snaked in a double line around the room.   There were seven (of the nine)  stations with numbered lights above them and voices which called you forth when they were free.   So I waited although I am not good at standing for long periods.   It won’t be long I thought.   After a few minutes five clerks or clerkesses had left their positions never to return.   So two people were left to service the queue.   One of the windows was staffed by a female who was attending to travel money.   So that left  one woman for the rest of us.   The upshot was that 30 minutes later I along with about two dozen others,  from young mothers with toddlers to age 86 were still queuing like sedated Martians awaiting the favour of the authorities.  

After at least sixty years of using Scottish post-offices in many different towns, this is the worst service I have ever had.   Are we becoming a third-world country?   I will write to the manager, as I told the woman who eventually appeared, still chewing her afternoon biscuits while she deigned to serve me. 

I read an article in the Mensa Magazine, actually it was a letter to the paper replying to a piece about how we desire to have children to reproduce our genes. The old “Selfish Gene” story.   This person’s idea was that this was untrue because the off-spring of a male and a female in turn passes on only half the genes of each parent and that in new combinations.   So this person maintained that this process allows for the evolving improvement of  humanity to changing conditions on earth.  EVOLUTION, not the “will” of the genes is the driving force, he said.  Deep stuff!   Also the thought was expressed that those who decided not to have children were taking an intellectual decision, and were right and intelligent to do so.   Well, now you know!

My thoughts turned to the old U-tube “Same procedure as last year, Miss Sophie” to be found on Google under “Dinner for one – youTube”.   It is VERY funny if you are in the mood for it.   Especially if you are having a cocktail or two.  (It’s shown on television in Germany and Austria as a ritual every New Year).  Me, I am off to have my roast carrot soup and smoked haddock and mashed potatoes.   Must keep the old vitamins and calories going!  

Good luck to all the runners in the 10k run around Inverness tomorrow (Sunday) morning.     If you see two oldies supporting each other in Dores Road, who have come out to wave to you, then you know that is the well-fortified M&G worthies from Lochardil.   Cheers!   And as they say in Glasgow  -  Go on Yourselves – or more likely: Gaun yersells!!

YOU NEED A SENSE OF HUMOUR IN 2012

Is the age of fifty, the new thirty?  Today for lunch we had two fifty-somethings   who had just finished a ten-kilometre-run followed by a seven-mile bike-run.   This was a practice-run for the real event in a couple of weeks.   They were both having a day away from their regular jobs, and were totally bright and lively after their exertions.   They ate a hearty lunch with us, and were off to plant some hundreds of bulbs and do general gardening, and so on and so on!   By the way, you may know them as Laura and Gordon C.  Perhaps, if fifty is the new thirty, then eighty is the new sixty.   I think I will buy roller-skates for Gerald and myself.

It seems that soon there will be more and more people aged 85 or over in Great Britain.   I suppose it’s the same all over.    We’ll all be up close and personal with our neighbours soon if this goes on!   You need to have a good sense of humour in the modern world, ready for any wild news that comes over the media!   It really is very strange.   

The other day, the leader of the Lib/Dems, Nick Clegg apologised for his broken promises regarding university tuition fees, and how they would never be increased if his party had anything to do with it.   Of course, when in power with the Tories, this promise was ignored as everyone knows.    Now fees are higher than ever - £9,000 per year in many cases.   Well, Nick has apologised.   Some pranksters on the internet have taken the speech, and they have dubbed it with a funny singing voice repeating his “sorry” remarks over and over.   They say that the tune is going up the charts.  Maybe it will be No. 1 by Christmas.    God!   What a crazy country!

Postcard this morning, a bit late, from Calum and Fiona, from holiday in Croatia.   It looks a lovely place.   Maybe they will bump into Jerry and Mari while they are there.   Anyway this part of the world is becoming very popular for holidays.

Also looked up Cairns, Australia this morning because that is where Laura Martin and Lauren have driven to from Darwin.   Isn’t the internet wonderful?    Within two minutes I was reading descriptions of the barrier reef, how it is formed and many more facts to be assimilated if one wished.   Also there were even jobs advertised, at least a few when I keyed in ‘Jobs in Cairns, Australia’.   It is all unbelievable!

Joke 1:    This man says to his friend.    “Well, my wife and I, we have a very successful marriage.   We go to a restaurant two nights a week, soft lights, some music, maybe a little dancing.   It’s wonderful!   She goes Tuesdays.    I go Fridays.

Joke 2:   The pope is talking to his cardinals high above St. Peters Square in Rome.   One of the cardinals looks out of the window and sees Jesus coming up the stairs.   He tells the others and they rush to the pope in a panic.   “What shall we do your holiness?”   Says the pope.   “Everybody look busy!”

ETON MESS FOR SUPPER

I have forgotten how to make Eton Mess.   As I intend to use up the strawberries I bought at the new Asda for supper this evening.  I will now look the recipe up and refresh my memory (I have mislaid the original print).   OK!   According to Delia Smith, you blend half the strawberries.   You whip the cream.   You chop the other half of the strawberries.   You mix a packet of meringues with the cream and the two lots of strawberries, and Bob’s your uncle!

I have a cheek talking about strawberries as if the world was all basically a semi-paradise and I should indulge myself.   Well, that’s what I feel like, so what!   I want to forget about:

a)     The Liverpool Hillsborough football disaster.   Sad!   Sad!

b)    The poor souls being blown up in Libya.

c)      Some politicians. One’s name begins with G, one with O, and one with C.   Also a few more alphabetic disasters, who function in Westminister.

      But I don’t want to forget about, ‘cos I admire, Ed.M.and Ed.B and Douglas Alexander.   Terrific in New York this week at the tennis championships!  I am so proud of ANDY MURRAY!!!   What must his mother feel like?   What a son!”  He makes me feel like taking up tennis myself.

I send love to clever, pretty, laughing Laura Martin.   I saw the birthday pictures of you in Aussie, with the note saying “Kiss me!”   stuck to your forehead.   LAURA and her friend , LAUREN are working and hanging out somewhere around Darwin.   I hear you two have bought a car and are going to drive to Sydney.   You are so-o-o  adventurous!   Miss you lots!   Also, must not forget the two in Sydney already. Hurry home Emma and Kevin!   Scotland needs you!

By the way, Laura, Gerald says to tell you the Salt Crocodiles around Darwin won’t attack you as long as you’re right at the bottom of the river-bed – preferably in a diving suit.   So just remember that!   Get down to the bottom fast – or preferably don’t swim at all in the vicinity of crocks – so said the intrepid divers studying the crocks in their programme on TV.

Good Holiday and Safe Journey is wished by Gerald and myself to Jerry and Mari, our family and guests this summer.   They painted the town red in London and then flew off to Berlin and then on to Croatia.  Intrepid travellers, great organisers, great fun and good company.   Hope you arrive safely back in Whidbey Island at the right time and with your i-pads and puzzle games safe and sound.

Dyed my hair this morning.   It’s beautiful, brown and honey.   Don’t have to pay the hairdresser this month!   Off to meet Mimi Martin and Science Tech and child psychologist Laura Christie at 5pm. at Girvans, Inverness.  Further News Later!