AMANG the things at keep me steerin on wi es Setterday say-awa is the response fae here-aboot fowks an ithers, hine awa.
It kittles up the hairt an it’s aboot time tae gie credit tae een or twa fa sen in wee noties, nae name anent, an ithers wi screeds o pages on gran memories o days lang syne.
Lang syne? Weel nae tae me fa canna faddum foo shortsome his been the traik inta the aatumn o life. Ere I wis the ither day pyntin oot far the Viewfield Hotel an host Dan Croucher eest tae be, the Barber neist door, fin first we pit doon wir kist in the Brig o Don a three eer efter wi mairrit.
The blank faces said it aa so here I am, a Dunecht loon, noo a senior citizen at the Brig o Don an thinkin I micht jist be acceptit.
It seems like yesterday……
I hae aside me gran memories fae Alastair Duncan o Westhill on’s life as a cottar’s bairn in the 1940s, Ron Craig fae Comrie on growein up in war-time Kemnay an Margaret Tong hyne oot in California bringin back memories o early days in Buckie.
Jist dauchle a meenitie an winner on fit loups tae myn wi some o you on sic ferlies. I hinna eneuch space tae dee them aa justice enoo so, anither day anither denner, will dae’t ower the neist feow Setterdays.
Sae spreadin the wikkly dreel we’ll ca the harras ower Margaret’s gran article she wrote an publish’t in the ‘Lallans Magazine’.
I’ll nae spile the story bit here wis a lass at got introduc’t tae me throwe ma Sunday Reel Blend programme, e-mailin me tae say she cam fae Buckie an speirin gin I kent Bob Johnstone fa wirkit for es paper an did a wikkly article sic like as myn.
I’d be gled tae hear o ony contacts on that score, bit fit I hae ti tell the day is the skeely wye Margaret can still screive in the doric tongue she left ahin aa these years ago.
The upcomes she uses his me back tae ma ain bairnhood an the wye o life then.
On the wither “anither mochie day an the glessie’s fa’n doon” said granfaither as he rappit on the barometer on the wa.
The story centres roon Canadian cousins comin tae bide wi Grannie an Granda an wi typical North-East hospitality “they can bide as lang’s they like”.
Ye are tell’t back then, a saxty eer ago, that the Canadian cousins warna quite prepar’t for the stay wi crafter Chairlie, includin the speirin for a bath that brocht oot the tin tub.
“Ye can sweel yer face at the kitchen sink, fit’s a the wap aboot? We’ll pit tee the kettle an ye can hae a bowlie o het waater. An ye wint tae wash yer hair an aa? Losh be here, gin ye dee that, ma quine, ye’ll be smoarin wi caul the morn”.
Memories are made o this so at’s as far as I’ve got. Alastair an Ron will full the space anither wikk.
Bit tae the wee noties, an es een fae a body that likes tae hide aneth the blunket. I dinna myn - keep sennin them in.
“Jist a hurried scrawl afore flytime. Fit wye is a creepie ca’d a creepie? Fit’s a pee-wee?”
Aa grist tae the mull bit on it goes tae gie a reply tae a query o a feow wikks syne.
“We think Sheila Wallace’s ‘Orra Man’ is a spoke, bit my brither wirkit in the wid an he says a spoke is for shiftin heavy tree trunks”.
Maybe we hae got tae the reet o the problem on Sheila’s query we air’t on yon implement for helpin tae lift bags o corn.
Back syne tae fin the Kirk wis mair or less the deen thing wi the Sunday suit on, I hae ye haarknin in tae the pew in front.
Ere wis Maggie an Jock in the middle o the sermon fin Maggie leans ower, pandrop in her moo, an whispers tae Jock: “I jist let aff a wee silent fart. Fit shid I dee?”
Jock replies “Pit a new battery in yer hearin aid.”
See ye neist wikkeyn.