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Unwell_Raptor
7th Dec 2001, 14:59
DIARY OF THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS.

August 12th

Moved to our new home in the highlands. I 'm so excited. It's beautiful here. The hills look so majestic can, hardly wait to see the snow. The garden's beautiful and there's loads of bunnies hopping around. Isn't nature wonderful?

October 14th

The Scottish Highlands. It's the most beautiful place on earth. The leaves have all turned hues of orange and red. Went for a drive in the beautiful valleys and saw some deer, they are such graceful beasts. They come down
low at this time of the year but are at risk from those cruel poachers. Can't imagine why anyone would want to kill them. They are certainly the most wonderful creatures on earth.

November 30th St Andrews Day

Got tickets for the ceilidh. Really getting into the place now. Can't wait for the snow. I love it here!

December 19th

Yes it's started snowing. The first real snow I've seen here. I took out some buttered scones and sat by the window watching the snowflakes drift down, clinging to the trees and covering the ground, and the wee rabbits
were skipping around and trying to dodge the flakes. It was so beautiful.

December 20th

Awoke to a lovely blanket of crystal white snow covering the landscape. What a fantastic sight. Looked like a Christmas card. Every tree and shrub covered with a white mantle. We went outside and had a snowball fight and
then energetically shovelled snow for the first time and loved it. I did both the driveway and pavement. Later the council's snowplough accidentally covered the driveway with compact snow from the street, but the driver
smiled and waved so I waved back and shovelled again. What a beautiful place. I love it.

December 21st

It snowed an additional 4 inches last night, the temperature dropped to minus 10. Several limbs on the trees and shrubs snapped due to the weight of the snow, and the rabbits are having to dig for their food. I shovelled the
driveway again, Shortly afterwards the snow plough man came by and did his trick again. Much of the snow is brownish grey. Blisters appearing on my hands due to the shovelling.

December 22nd

Warmed up during the day to create some slush and saw patches of grass, to reveal that the [email protected] rabbits have eaten all my bulbs. Slush soon turned to ice as the temperature dropped again. I bought some snow tyres for the
car. Fell on my arse on the frozen rabbit $hit in the driveway, £75 for the chiropractor, but nothing broken. #ucking vermin!!
More snow and ice forecast.

December 23rd

Bitterly cold. Sold the car and bought a 4x4 in order to get to work. Slid into some Armco crash barrier and inflicted some considerable damage to the right rear quarter of the 4x4. Don't know why they don't use more salt on the roads. Had another 5 inches of the white $hit last night. 4x4 covered in snow and slush, more shovelling in store for me today. That bloody snowplough came by twice today, BASTARD.

December 24th

Minus 15 degrees outside today. More #ucking snow, not a tree, shrub or bulb on the property that hasn't been damaged or eaten. Power was off most of the night, tried to keep from freezing to death with candles and a paraffin
heater, which I tripped over and nearly burnt the bloody house down. I managed to put the flames out, but suffered second degree burns to my hands and lost all my eyebrows and eyelashes.

December 25th

Merry #ucking Christmas. That white $hit still keeps coming #ucking down! Have to put on all the clothes I have just to get to the post-box. If I ever get to that son of a bitch that drives that snowplough, I'll chew his
chest and rip his #ucking heart out. I think he hides around the corner and waits for me to finish shovelling, then comes down the road about 100 miles an hour and buries our driveway again. Power still off, the toilet has frozen
over now, and part of the roof has started to cave in due to the weight of the snow. Weatherman has predicted another 6 inches of snow tonight. Do you know how many shovel fulls 6 inches is? #ucking weatherman was wrong; not 6 inches but 12 inches of the #ucking stuff fell last night. The snowplough got stuck up the road and the driver asked to borrow my shovel!! I wounded the arsehole with my ice pick, but the bastard got away. I can't move or feel my toes and there is more snow predicted. Wind chill factor of 32 #ucking degrees below.



December 30th

Finally got out of the house today, drove to the shops to get some supplies and on the way back, a dammed deer ran out in front of the 4X4, did about £3000 of damage. Those #ucking beasts should all be shot, the bastards
are everywhere. Wish the poachers had exterminated the lot in the autumn.


December 31st

Took the 4X4 to the garage, It'll be weeks before I get it back as they're closed for Hogmanay. Would you believe it, the bloody thing is rusted underneath from all that #ucking salt they put all over the roads.


SEE YOU SOON I'M COMING HOME.

[ 07 December 2001: Message edited by: Unwell_Raptor ]

Margaret Thatcher
7th Dec 2001, 16:09
Mr Sick-Pidgeon,

The weather is only so harsh to keep the sassanchs OOOOOt.

Margaret thatcher says:

All poofy southerners ? UP against the wall !
;) :D :eek:

1.3VStall
7th Dec 2001, 17:27
LT - don't do it!

ATCbabe
7th Dec 2001, 17:30
Unwell Rapture,
Ain't bonny Scotland grand!!!!!!! :D :D
And that was just a mild winter, wait until a real winter arrives!!! :eek:

[ 07 December 2001: Message edited by: ATCbabe ]

Check Wheels
7th Dec 2001, 17:46
Snow?

What's that? :cool:

Davaar
7th Dec 2001, 18:00
Don't worry, Lima. You will not see much snow at Prestwick. You are just across the Clyde from Arran and Bute, where they have year-round palm trees. For the snow, best try Kent or Nottinghamshire.

The Guvnor
7th Dec 2001, 19:34
REAL men wear kilts in the middle of winter.

No wonder the Sassenachs were terrified of us Scots! ;) :D ;)

Celtic Emerald
7th Dec 2001, 20:03
I've travelled most of Scotland particularly the highlands & it is breathtaking how beautiful it is, the mountains seem to go on forever. Prestwick is as flat as a pancake however, good for planespotters though :rolleyes:

Watch out for the midges in the highlands , I hear there right little pests!

Emerald

G SXTY
7th Dec 2001, 20:20
Pests? They're the size of sodding golf balls.

Having had a couple of midge strikes, I reckon a golf ball would be less painful. :eek:

G SXTY
7th Dec 2001, 20:37
And while we’re at it, what’s the deal with football up there?

You’re up in the Highlands for the weekend, you settle down with a bottle of red at 10:30 on Saturday night trying to see West Ham’s latest relegation battle, and what do you get? Sportscene Scotland, with some bloke introducing ‘highlights’ of Stenousemuir v Cowdenbeath. Honestly. :mad:

Is it just a big conspiracy to keep tourists away? :confused:

[ 07 December 2001: Message edited by: G SXTY ]

Evening Star
7th Dec 2001, 21:09
G SXTY

Reminds me of a cartoon I once saw entitled 'Another boring Saturday on Hadrian's Wall'. Showed a bored Roman centurion listening to a kilt clad Scotsman reading out the Scottish football results.

Loki
7th Dec 2001, 22:20
I spent a Winter in Scotland some years ago: every day between October and March someting cold and/or wet fell from the sky. What truly perplexed me was that it appeared to be falling sideways. Perpendicular is not a word familiar to the inhabitants of the West Coast.

G SXTY
7th Dec 2001, 22:43
So that's why they stopped at Hadrian's Wall. Not daft, those Romans. :D :D

Captain Rodders
8th Dec 2001, 02:43
G SXTY

The Romans did not stop at Hadrian's Wall but spent years in Scotland and built the Antonine Wall which runs fromn Bo'ness on the Firth of Forth to Old Kilpatrick on the Forth of Clyde.

They got as far as Stonehaven (near Aberdeen) in AD 83 but had almost completely withdrawn by AD 122 building Hadrian's Wall at this time. They returned from AD 142 to AD 164, building the Antonine Wall from AD 142 to AD 144, but could not cope with the marauding Caledonians. They had another go from AD 197 to AD 208 but then gave up for good.

The dates are approximate as I was not there, even if my wife thinks I am ancient.

Just goes to show that I did listen in History at School!

By the way Newcastle Airport is North of Hadrian's Wall.

Hugo

By the way does anyone remember "Ecce Romani". :eek:

[ 07 December 2001: Message edited by: Hugo Z Hackenbush ]

HugMonster
8th Dec 2001, 02:59
Among my many weird habits, one of the less-weird ones is collecting different-language versions of "Asterix in Britain". (I also collect different version of the game Monopoly.) Readers of Asterix will be well-familiar with the phrase "They're crazy, these Romans". One of my favourite versions is the one in Italian, where the above phrase translates as "Soni pazzi, Questi Romani" - the initials being SPQR... :D

tony draper
8th Dec 2001, 03:30
Those Romans were no fools,should those walls have been allowed to fall into such a sad state of disrepair?,one asks oneself.
Ayeeee!!! The Tartan War Machine. :eek:

[ 07 December 2001: Message edited by: tony draper ]

dingducky
8th Dec 2001, 03:54
The sex life of the Scottish male ...

New research delivers enlightening insight into the sex life of the Scottish male.

PREPARATION

Friday night is very much love-night for the Scottish man. Arriving back from the pub, having partaken of the traditional Scottish
aphrodisiac - 12 pints, a white pudding supper and 3 pickled onions - his mind is set on one thing - LOVE! Or as he says himself, "Ma nookie!"

His lust at fever pitch after the sensuous excitement of a hard night's dominoes, he approaches his beloved wife, enticing her with gentle words of passion, "Any chance a ma hole?" The good lady in question perhaps over excited by the erotic smell of stale beer or the sensuous vision of pickled onions sticking to his chin, is at first
somewhat reluctant. This coy reluctance is expressed with the flirtatious reply, "Awaity f*ck ya bam."

FOREPLAY

Foreplay is very important indeed. This basically consists of the male casting off his lightly soiled Y-fronts provocatively at his wife, usually landing skid-mark side down, as he approaches the bed singing the ancient Gaelic fertility chant, "Here we go, here we go, here we go." Upon reaching the bed, he comments proudly on his rampant 8 incher. This is a classic example of alcohol induced double vision.

INITIAL PROBLEMS

After 12 pints, sometimes the man's wee Willie Winkle is a trifle reluctant to extend itself (literally). Impotence is very much a blow to the man's self-esteem and the wife has to be very tactful. She will offer gentle and sensitive words of encouragement such as, "Ya useless bastard," or possibly, "It ne'er happens tae ra Milkman."

FELLATIO

Oral sex is a great favourite of the Scotsman. He approaches his wife with a cheeky invitation, "How'd ya like to put yer teeth roon this?"
The woman nods willingly and points suggestively to her falsies smiling happily in a bedside tumbler. "Go'on yersel," she says, "jist dinnae disturb me."

Undeterred by this slight rejection, the man dives enthusiastically to perform such a service for his wife. A breakdown in communication often leads to problems. The man emerging from below, his face like a wet tomato, uttering a pointed but tender rebuke, "Bustard, you could have told me it was your bad week."

DOWN TO BUSINESS

Eventually the moment comes to consummate their tender love. Again, alcohol induced double vision is an important factor as the man decides which of his willies to use for penetration. Sometimes in his excitement he may suffer from severe premature ejaculation. A phenomenon he explains to his wife using the poetic phrase, "F*ck me, I've shot ma load."

If this does occur, it is essential he makes up for disappointing his wife by uttering tender and loving compliments such as, perhaps, informing her she's the nicest woman he's ever come across. An imaginative lover, the Scotsman, possibly having read the woman likes to be spoken dirty to, says such things as, "Sh*te, arsehole."

The woman is speechless. The man is now thrusting away, his mind a kaleidoscope of jumbled erotic thoughts. The woman wonders if they should repaint the ceiling. Sometimes she utters a word of encouragement such as, "Are you sure it's in?" Given his level of sexual expertise, the Scotsman's ideal partner should be a versatile lover specialising in the faked orgasm. This takes the form of a breathless shout, "Ooyah, ooyah, gallus big man."

Eventually it's all over. The man rolls over, wipes his **** on her nightie, falls asleep, and commences snoring like a pig.

There's no one in the world performs quite like a Scotsman - a veritable prince in the kingdom of sex.

Tee
8th Dec 2001, 12:47
Hugo,

What a blast from the past - yes, I remember Ecce Romani - still have three of the books and I dug them out to reminisce when you mentioned them. Must be over 25 years since I used them.

On the subject of Scottish weather, I can recall it being -21 degrees in Aberdeen in the winter of 1995/96.

Feeton Terrafirma
8th Dec 2001, 13:34
Hey Check Wheels you remember hearing about snow surely? It's that stuff they have in winter at the ski resorts. Can't be all bad either cos some pay a fair bit to go ski on it. :D

lame
8th Dec 2001, 13:55
Gee Feeton, you will post on anything to get your numbers up.... :rolleyes:

Evening Star
8th Dec 2001, 14:46
Dingducky

Shamelessly eavesdropping (as we all do in the pub?), I gather that your description could equally apply to the average Geordie male (Not me as, of course, I am perfect :D :D !). Or as one lass I recently overheard put it, "I told him to put the nightie back when he had finished".

One wonders if the Roman's did any better when they were here?

BuzzLightyear
9th Dec 2001, 04:13
Ah the lovely North of Scotland - 9 months winter, three months sh*t sledging! :D

sirwa69
9th Dec 2001, 15:23
Ma Ain Hame :cool: :cool:

Scotland is the most wonderful place to come from :D
But I couldn't live there again :eek:

Too Cold :confused:

flapsforty
9th Dec 2001, 16:30
Huggie Asterix hilarious, and your SPQR one of my favourites as well! :D
We has a very canny Latin teacher at school who made us read the whole series in Latin, and I reckon that did more for our Latin than anything else he did during 6 years, stroke of genius that was.

And having lived on the West Coast of Bonnie for 2 years I can safely say: Any of you lot consider Scotland cold, come and spend a bit of time in Norway, you wimps!
:eek: :rolleyes: ;)

Scotland lovely place, bit wet, but otherwise wonderful and the people possibly the nicest in Europe IMHO.
So there................ :)

PS: Dux can't say my experience with the Scottish male is anything like yours either. ;)

Echo Oscar
9th Dec 2001, 17:32
I remember seeing the book - but not understanding. Remind me, someone, why schools insisted on everyone having a go at Latin?

And another thing, come the revoloution, when we rebuild the wall....

EO

gul dukat
9th Dec 2001, 17:48
Lived there for 9 years ..married a Scots woman divorced said scots woman .Had my first ever taste of the Scottish "delicacy" DEEP FRIED PIZZA!!!eek: :eek: :eek: :eek: :eek: COULD FEEL MY ARTERIES CLOG as I ordered it!! Experienced snow in Aberdeen at the beginning of September!!had the engine in the car freeze with 50% antifreeze in it in January .Became a supporter of Ayr utd (must be something in the 70 shilling!!)Sailed in some of the most BEAUTIFUL scenery ever and on reflection LOVED every minute.
Nearly as much fun as living in N.I.!!(almost as many religious nutters and wierd political opinions! Huggy would love it !! :D )

Ed Winchester
9th Dec 2001, 19:01
The average Englishman, in the home he calls his castle, slips into his national costume - a shabby raincoat patented by chemist Charles Macintosh of Glasgow, Scotland.

He drives an English car fitted with tyres, invented by John Boyd Dunlop of Dreghorn, Scotland.

At the office, he receives his mail, bearing adhesive stamps invented by John Chalmers of Dundee, Scotland.

During the day, he uses the telephone, invented by Alexander Graham Bell of Edinburgh, Scotland.

At home in the evening, his daughter pedals her bicycle, invented by Kirkpatrick Macmillan, blacksmith of Dumfries, Scotland.

He watches the news on T.V., an invention of John Logie Baird of Helensburgh, Scotland, and hears an item about the US Navy, which was founded by John Paul Jones of Kirkbean, Scotland.

He has now been reminded too much of Scotland and in desperation he picks up the Bible, only to find that the first man mentioned in the good book is a Scot - King James VI - who authorised that translation.
Nowhere can an Englishman turn to escape the ingenuity of the Scots.

He could take to drink, but the Scots make the best in the world.

He could take a rifle and end it all but the breech-loading rifle was invented by Captain Patrick Ferguson of Pitfours, Scotland.

If he escaped death, he could find himself on an operating table injected with penicillin, discovered by Alexander Fleming of Darvel, Scotland, and given an anaesthetic, discovered by Sir James Young Simpson of Bathgate, Scotland.

Out of the anaesthetic he would find no comfort in learning that he was "as safe as the Bank of England" which was founded by William Paterson of Dumfries, Scotland.

Perhaps his only remaining hope would be to get a transfusion of guid Scottish blood that would entitle him to say...

Here's tae us - Wha's like us?

(Damned few, and they're a' deid.)

Unwell_Raptor
9th Dec 2001, 19:32
Oh yes, the Scots certainly run the country. Don't they, Mr. Brown, Mr. Blair, Lord Irvine?

There is a tale of the Scots civil servant seconded to London for six months. Returning home on a brief leave halfway through his posting he went into his local. "Angus" they cried. "How d'ye get on with the Ainglish?"

"Och" he replied. "I didnae meet any Ainglish. Only the heids o'depairtments"


:rolleyes:

tony draper
9th Dec 2001, 20:48
Did you know that the part of Scotland north of the caladonian canal is 3.2 billion years old and is actually part of Canada.
So perhaps it would be more apt if you lot wore Tartan shirts instead of Tartan skirts, and have a big chopper dangling over you shoulder, instead of a little one dangling over your shoes. ;)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An Englishman is being shown around a Scottish hospital during the Great War. At the end of his visit, he is shown into a ward with a number of patients who show no obvious signs of injury. He goes to examine the first man he sees, and the man proclaims:
"Fair fa' yer sonsie face, Great chieftain e' the puddin' race! Aboon them a' ye tak our
place, painch tripe or thairm: Weel are ye wordy o' a grace as lang's my arm."

The Englishman, somewhat taken aback, goes to the next patient, and immediately the patient launches into: "Some hae meat, and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit."

This continues with the next patient: "Wee sleekit cow'rin tim'rous beastie, O what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi bickering brattle I wad be laith to run and chase thee, Wi murdering prattle!"

"Well," the Englishman mutters to his Scottish colleague, "I see you saved the psychiatric ward for the last."

"Nay, nay," the Scottish doctor corrected him, "this is the Serious Burns unit."

Thank you Mr McKenzie Smith. ;)

[ 09 December 2001: Message edited by: tony draper ]

Unwell_Raptor
9th Dec 2001, 21:40
There's another thing, Mr. D. I spent a weekend in Whitley Bay recently and my hosts took us Nothwards along the coast, almost as far as the Scotch border. Your predecessors seem to have put a heck of a lot of effort into fortifying their lands against the Scotch. In fact there are castles everywhere. Apart from the rape pillage and looting, what were they afraid of?

tony draper
9th Dec 2001, 21:47
Them scandihooligans Mr Raptor, those Scotsmen were no problem, we just went up every couple of hundred year and kicked their arses, but the scandeweigians were no end of bother. ;)
The other thing was the Normans, we didn't take kindly to some ill mannered French lout lording it over us, unlike those southern fops, so we burn a few of his bishops, and slew a few of his minions, so he was therefore obliged to build those castles for his chaps to hide in.

[ 09 December 2001: Message edited by: tony draper ]

Celtic Emerald
10th Dec 2001, 20:23
Since I happen to be someone who likes good food I've a fondness for gastronomic food, Scottish included. Throw haggis, venison, cloutie dumpling etc my way & I'll gobble it up. To satisfy this craving I decided to return home with a few tins of haggis. Flying home from Prestwick the darling captain xxx (could be virgin ain't sure?)allowed me to occupy the jumpseat for the whole flight. In gratitude I decided to reward him despite his obstinate resistance with one of me tinned haggis's. Back home, smug with my benevolence I decided on opening one of the tins. Off came the top, the haggis wouldn't budge, off came the bottom to try & push the haggis through. No luck! At this stage bleeding profusely, swarthed in bandages and sweating profusely, I called in a helper. After skewering the centre of the tin and managing to drain some fluid out two exhausted grown women managed to get the haggis out in tact. Everytime forthwidth I had to open a tin, a sense of dread came over me. One time I had guests for dinner & decided to cook a gourmet meal with many complicated courses but the course I dreaded the most, took the most time & the most out of me was the precooked 'haggis' course.

I'm sure the said captain cursed the gift he never wanted in the first place & if he didn't bin it first it probably maimed him for life. :eek:

Emerald

The Guvnor
10th Dec 2001, 20:39
Celtic - if you flew out of PIK it would have been with those nice Ryanair people.

You'd be much better off popping into the butchers in Troon High Street who do a lovely fresh haggis (and white pudding, mealie pudding, black pudding, various flavours of sausages etc) - none of this canned nonsense!! :D :eek: :D

T_richard
10th Dec 2001, 21:09
How can anyone eat something called 'haggis" or "mealie pudding"?

By the way Raptor, your story had me laughing till I shed tears

[ 10 December 2001: Message edited by: T_richard ]

tony draper
10th Dec 2001, 21:21
Believe me nothing more tasty than a slice of white pud on yer saturday morning fry up.
Can't get it around here now. :(

tony draper
10th Dec 2001, 21:24
Believe me nothing more tasty than a slice of white pud on yer saturday morning fry up.
Can't get it around here now. :(

HugMonster
10th Dec 2001, 22:24
Your predecessors seem to have put a heck of a lot of effort into fortifying their lands against the Scotch.Incorrect, Mr. U_R.

Lots of effort went into defending against the Scots, and keeping the little hairy things out. As far as the Scotch is concerned, there is no way that enough can get through :D

Firestorm
11th Dec 2001, 00:47
Is this thread about the same Scotland as the one I live in? Many of the characteristics I recognise. There was mention of snow, but all it seems to do in the Scotland I live is bloody rain! :confused:

Davaar
11th Dec 2001, 06:49
Well, Pax, I have seen skiers attach parachute harnesses to their waists, deploy the canopy out in front, and ski uphill at Glenshee. How's that for wind?

Margaret Thatcher
11th Dec 2001, 12:43
A couple of years ago I ws living in L.A and pretty pissed off hearing how every American I met was Scottish. (Their great great grandfather had a westie or something).

Anyway I was in the flight School waiting for a new student when a GARGANTUAN woman appeared and when she heard my accent she said..

' Ya'll know I'm Skattish too'

having reached my fill after years of persecution I turned and asked exactly HOW could she be Scottish ?

To which she replied:

' Gee Mah HUZBAND IS SKATTISH, SO AH GESS THAT MAKES ME SKATTISH BY INJECTION'
:eek: :D :D ;)

I Kid you not.

Bally Heck
11th Dec 2001, 14:23
The Archangel Gabrielle is watching God during the creation. “Watch this one” says God. As Gabrielle looks on in astonishment God creates a small country of astounding beauty. Majestic mountains are artistically place among lochs and muirs. Golden eagles soar above the mountains while osprey rise from the lochs with giant salmon in their claws. Hard working farmers toil in fertile fields. Fishermen harvest a plentiful ocean. Teachers, scientists, poets and artists thrive. And at the end of each day they all have a dram of rare old scotch whisky. The finest nectar of the gods.

“For goodness sake God. How can you make a country so blessed. The people will be spoiled by this beauty and abundance.”

“Ha” says God, “Wait until you see the neighbours from hell I’m going to make for them.”

tony draper
11th Dec 2001, 14:52
Scots are unique in another way, in being the only race on Earth that actually like the French. :(

The Guvnor
11th Dec 2001, 15:03
Not really, Mr Draper - the Auld Alliance only applies to the Catholics.

Margaret Thatcher
11th Dec 2001, 15:45
The auld alliance lives !

I'm going to have my MSP try tio revive it in the next session. (That's if there are any MSP's left)

Maggie

HugMonster
11th Dec 2001, 16:00
Quite right too - never did like those Huguenots...

T_richard
11th Dec 2001, 17:43
Good Un, Bally, The followup to that story is that God carved out another plot of land gave it all the same blessings (except the scotch) and better neighbors. I've lived there for 16 generations. Today is the 3 month anniversary. God bless their souls.

Celtic Emerald
11th Dec 2001, 19:58
Yes Guvnor it was FR, I'm not that thick mate!

I mean't virgin as in username not airline mate & technically bringing in meat products into Ireland in your luggage is illegal hence the canned produce. Infact I brought it in two locations, some in the highlands, & some in Pretwicks duty free. Guess where it was the cheapest, not the duty free to be sure to be sure. :rolleyes:

Emerald

Davaar
11th Dec 2001, 21:59
Mr D, the Auld Alliance was more of a name than a reality. When French knights in Scotland rode through standing crops, the farmers went after them with scythes. Zut! Tenez! Not nearly as respectful as in France. It was not that the Scots liked the French, more that they disliked the English. Why would that be?

tony draper
11th Dec 2001, 23:13
Wouldn't have thought a cuisine based on the oat, and a diet devoid of moluscs and amphibians, would suit said Frenchie Knights either. ;)

fantom
11th Dec 2001, 23:54
raptor. only just found it, now got three broken ribs thro' laughing. even frightened the dog.
and another thing..
got up in the middle if the nite to go to TWO carboot sales looking for bleedin lego.not a damned bit. still looking. :rolleyes:

Davaar
12th Dec 2001, 01:49
With all respect, Mr D, oats were for the festive days: "The Scots are bold, hardy, and much inured to war....they march from twenty to four-and-twenty leagues without halting.....their habits of sobriety are such, in time of war, that they will live for a long time on flesh half sodden, without bread, and drink the river water without wine. They have, therefore, no occasion for pots and pans; for they dress the flesh of their cattle in the skins, after they have taken them off; and being sure to find plenty of them in the country which they invade, they carry none with them. Under the flaps of his saddle, each man carries a broad plate of metal; behind the saddle, a little bag of oatmeal; when they have eaten too much of the sodden flesh, and their stomachs appear weak and empty, they place this plate over the fire, mix with water their oatmeal, and when the plate is heated, they put a little of the paste upon it, and make a thin cake, like a cracknel or biscuit, which they eat to warm their stomachs: it therefore no wonder that they perform a longer day's march than other soldiers".

Froissart's Chronicle, i, c 17.

Delicious. Wha' wad quarrel wi' his meat?

tony draper
12th Dec 2001, 02:04
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer -
A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North
The birth place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forrests and wild-hanging woods;
Farwell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;
My heart's in the Highlands, whereever I go.

flapsforty
12th Dec 2001, 11:45
fantom pls mail me at [email protected] re. Lego!

Margaret Thatcher
12th Dec 2001, 11:59
Her. Draper,

A wee tear has trickled from my eye after your stirring rendition. The highlands are beautiful but a lot of them seemt to be populated by scottish versions of people from sumerset.

there's a thought for you.

G SXTY
12th Dec 2001, 18:17
You're not wrong Maggie.

Reminds me of our jaunt to the Highlands a couple of years ago. Relishing our long-planned trip, looking forward to walking in some of Europe’s last and finest wilderness country, hoping to catch a glimpse of golden eagle or pine martin, and breathless with excitement, we boarded the sleeper at Euston with a smile on our face and a spring in our step.

We then tried to book breakfast with a ferocious buffet car attendant, who looked like she’d been living in the guard’s van for the last 30 years. Upon innocently enquiring whether we might book a table for 07:00, we were told “There’s nae loco on tha front & I’ve got nae poower. Come back later.” (Her clipboard and pen were obviously special Scotrail issue, requiring a locomotive to operate them). ;)

Upon our return, and again asking as politely as possible for 07:00, the response was: “You’ll be throo here when I tell yee, dearie. We’ve got tae be all cleaned up by Aviemore.” Charming.

Never did see a bloody eagle. Saw a couple of dead sheep though.

Davaar
12th Dec 2001, 19:51
This is awful, Margaret and G-SXTY! Especially since you are both right on the button.

There was the "train manager" whom I found quite engaging: "Ye'se kin change at Edinburgh, ur ye'se kin change at York: it's up tae yersel's".

More cringe-making was the "waitress" who who "served" my late mother and a group of church ladies out for tea. The old dears had wrapped themselves round a couple of scones and cups of tea. Carried away with the debauchery of the moment, one of them asked for some more milk: "Whit dae ye want noo, Missus? Dae ye'se want a coo oan the table?". Very suave.

In contrast to that blind ignorance I once overheard a voice, evidently from the Deep South, address a waitress in an Edinburgh restaurant: "Yes, ma'am". "Why, thank yew, ma'am", and so on; and I wondered why so many Brits find it so necessary so reflexively to dislike so many Americans.

[ 12 December 2001: Message edited by: Davaar ]

Davaar
12th Dec 2001, 20:18
Oh well, since the topic comes up, my sister has a treasury of these exchanges.

She took some small boys on an outing, and they repaired to a sweetie shop for refreshments. Several wanted to buy potato crisps, but they were not available. Unguardedly, my sister commented that if the good lady were to stock crisps she would make a fortune. "Ah widnae stock thur crisps, lassie" was the response. "See me, if Ah wis tae stock crisps, Ah'd never be dune rinnin".

At a hairdressing salon in Glasgow she was drawn to debate, even disagreement, as to the style of the coiffure. The hairdresser yielded, reluctantly, against her best artistic judgment. Still, she was professionally offended, and half way through broke off to comment: "See you, see me, Hen! Ah'm goanny tell ye! Yur herr's deid oot o' fashion".

From scenes like these, Auld Scotia's grandeur springs.