THERE wis Mary Symon, dash’t near a hunner eer syne, in the quate o the evenin pittin the warl tae richts tae the tick o the clock.
Me? I pickit up the papers o the last wikk an can weel unnerstan noo fit wye I gae’d doon in the dumps a day or twa afore fin I wis tae read that Monday wis National Sickie Day. Fit neist?
I’ll ging back tae foo ma speerits were liftit later as I thocht tee o the eeseless, ill-dividit warl the heidlines mak o’t aa, the lave o’s fair scunnert jist o the slidder an sna.
Turn ower ony page an it gaurs ye grue o them that dra aa the attenchin anent ithers in sair wint aa ower the warl wi nae a brass farthin tae rub thegither.
Tak fitba! Beatin fit they ca the winter transfer windae, there wis Robbie Keane paradit like a prize bull wi a tag o £65,000 a wikk for Celtic tae knock the feet fae Rangers. First game an naethin tae show for’t, the siller doon the drain, bit feels an their bawbees are fyles easy pairtit.
Syne wi hae the English fitba captain, John Terry, reez’t up as aa that’s gweed, bit aye there’s a something for Max Clifford tae get’s hauns on, as Terry-All-Gold pickit oot o the wrang box o chocolates an left tae pey the price. He can weel afford it. The pey tae fitba players is obscene bit, as Peter Buchan said: ‘Siller’s like the saaty sea faur tide spins magic web, for nivver there wis yet a flood withoot there cam an ebb’.
It wis a spewin wikkeyn tee for Andy Murray at the tennis bit wisn’t the focus bi the media on his ‘greetin’ nae jist a thochtie ower muckle tae haunle. Greetin aa the wye tae the bank an if truth be tell’t he’ll hae learn’t a feow lessons fae his maister.
Sick tee are we aa o the Chilcot Inquiry and the traikle-tongue’t wirdies treetlin oot makkin sure damn-aal will come oot o’t at the eyn. Siller again wastit fin nott elsewhere.
The same wi the pey back o oor electit billies’ expenses an it wis a case o ‘Lord, I didna ken’ tae which the boomin vyce fae abeen answer’t ‘Weel ye ken noo’.
Absolutely nae sympathy here, speecially fin I heard on the wireless fae an MP tae the effec that it wis the system that wis ‘fundamentally flawed’ wi a ‘No, let’s not have that salary increase, it will not go down well with the public. You can always make it up in expenses’. Weel awyte, bit fit if it hid been ony o us?
Sick notes ower an on tae the oots an ins o foo I resistit fae bidin at hame wi a peelie wallie excuse.
Waakenin up in sic an ill-teen last Setterday lookin oot o my windae at the snaavy picter, I hid tae face a bus hurl tae Dundee cis o rail lines maintenance an onward tae Glesca bi train for a twa days includin a live Take The Floor broadcast.
The hivvy beets on wi the kilt socks aneath for warmth, aff I gaed an steekin the een on the bus got a rude awakenin fin it drew in tae Dundee an far wis the sna?
Nae a pick an Glesca cwid weel o been a wikkeyn in early spring.
Ah, bit darg deen I took in the early Sunday evenin concert as pairt o the Celtic Connections for the finals o the BBC Radio Scotland Young Traditional Musician 2010 Award, an wi the standard o the sax finalists o the heichest I wis fair chuff’t tae see a loon that ees’t tae play wi the Garioch Fiddlers comin tae the tap o the cream. Daniel Thorpe wis the fiddler an weel deen tae him.
Nae mair wis I singin the blues bit, afore I feenish, ye’ll myn that I speir’t at ye last wikk fit the expression ‘Suppin the kale afore the grace’ meant.
‘Tryin oot the furniture afore ye bocht the hoose’? Ach, oot we’it. Haein sex afore mairraige.
Like the wag-at-the-wa, yon’s a Doric expression hyne oot o date noo.
See ye neist wikkeyn.