CHRISTMAS 2019 NO. 6 - THE QUEEN'S SPEECH

As is my habit I asked if I could possibly hear the Queen's Christmas Message which comes on the TV at 3 pm Christmas Day.  

As a child growing up in Canada in the 1950s I have memories of everything stopping at 3 pm because we all sat down and listened on the radio to the Queen's Speech.  Like so many habits and practices you just did it.  It never entered my head to object (just like it never entered my head to talk back to the teacher, for example!)

My mother's parents came from England; my father's from England and Scotland (but he was never interested in 'The Old Country' as it was called).  Not so my mother and basically, Christmastime was whatever she did for it (which is basically the way things work in our household too).

The Canadian Flag pre-1965.

In an immigrant culture; there were no long established traditions; everyone  came from somewhere else and if they choose to do so, they practiced what they brought with them.  (And, of course, as the years go on, new traditions emerged.)

This Christmas here in Scotland we all gathered at Mairi and John's for presents and, later, dinner. The day was planned so that Margaret and I could sit down in peace and quiet at 3 pm in front of the TV.  Margaret told me she was in the habit of doing this also so I gave the children a pep-talk saying that the 2 of us (note: no one else) wanted to have 'Quiet Time' for 8 minutes to hear the Queen's Christmas Message.

And we did ... all 8 minutes of it ... in full ... and uninterrupted.  Harriet joined us and was as good as gold.

It was a wish fulfilled; a record established!  Really? What's the Big Deal? Well... as banal as it sounds I can categorically state that after 52 years of marriage anytime I put forward any request to do with listening to or watching a royal event it simply never happened. 

  

I live with someone who can't be bothered with the Royal family in all its various forms.  Fine.  I live in Scotland where many... most?... people feel the same.  That's fine too.  I happen to be a transplanted Colonial and come carrying all that baggage from one far outpost in the days when Britain had an Empire.  Over the years have I taken a (fairly casual) interest in who's doing what in the Queen's activities. The problem is that it invariably means that folk around me feel the need to bull-doze their way through the 'moment' because they think it is all so much bloody rubbish!

For example: recently when I was looking at some old photos (below) I recalled the time when I wanted to listen on a radio set to the Investiture of Prince Charles.  It was July 1st, 1969.

We were in the Mealy Mountains in Labrador on a mountaineering expedition.  Our friend Jim Messer organised the trip where we flew in on a (much loved) Beaver sea-plane (known affectionately as 'JAT' after its call-sign) with his pal Eric Henry who was based at the Goose Bay RCAF base.

We set up camp with our tents and spent about a week there exploring the unnamed mountains.  Below is [L-R] Jim and Barb in front with Iain and Eric behind.

I recall standing in the door of a tent with a headphone to my ear. The signal was good and I was able to hear the programme. 

At this point my companions who really thought this was the stupidest thing imaginable simply decided this was time for great hilarity and larked around me the whole time making sure that I couldn't hear.

And I didn't.

CHRISTMAS 2019 NO 5 - FAMILY PHOTO ROUND-UP

Recent photos of everyone...

Melanie and Alastair 

Indy

John and Mairi

Ishbel (12) and Granny Margaret

 Santa and Ellie (4)

 Santa and Harriet (6)

Alastair (11)

Mairi and Santa

Le Tout Ensemble

CHRISTMAS PREPARATIONS NO 4 - FOOD (complete with HICCUPS)

'Twas the night before Christmas...

All the work is done; now it is time to sit in front of the fire with a dram*...

This is a selection of Scottish cheeses bought for tomorrow. Crowdie a dry curd cheese; think cottage cheese without the moisture and with a much smaller curd.

This is cheese I bought in a delicatessen, The Brig Larder, in Kirkwall, Orkney.  I brought a selection home in September which we consumed over the ensuing weeks ... with the exception of this one.  Last week when I was making a big batch of macaroni and cheese I ran short of cheese and decided to cut into this one which was still in its waxed coat with the red label around it.

Well... what a shock I got!  This cheese looks like a piece of coal but it is soft enough to cut, and ... yes, it tastes like cheddar.

The label says it is 'Flaming - the first all black cheddar cheese'.  Looking on the internet I found "This truly unique cheese is made with charcoal from the Featherstone mines in Yorkshire."

But to quote from Harriet: "Eugghghgh... that's disgusting!"  Now I am a person who can and does eat anything; I have a cast iron stomach.  But I want to declare this is (but does not taste) absolutely revolting!  I mean who would eat this?!  I didn't even know you could make cheese of that colour!

Not one to waste food, I eat a little bit every day with a piece of excellent fully flavoursome 'Fenland Traditional' Cambridgeshire celery (from Waitrose) and it is fine; no ill effects ... but Thank You... never again!

Now that the run up to Christmas is over I can shine a light on 'the backroom helper'.  This is Iain, to whom all Christmas is "Bah Humbug', at work in the kitchen.

* * * * * * * * * AND FINALLY * * * * * * * * * 

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care ...

The children have hung up their stockings on the Kedddy fireplace in their living room.  Tomorrow we are going to join them and Granny Margaret for Christmas dinner after the Queen's Speech.

My lovely Norwegian Christmas stocking knitted by Ragna some years ago.

Shut down the computer ...

Ragna's stockings - mini version, again bought at the Norwegian Julefest over the years.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

* Small crisis... backing out of my garage mid-afternoon I became aware that I had a flat tyre.  My car is now sitting out on the street not because we couldn't sort out the tyre (which hasn't been sorted) but because it has been drawn to my attention that the paperwork for my vehicle tax is not right and until I get it right I cannot get help from the lovely AA people to sort the tyre.  (There is no spare; it's a repair kit only as is the way these days.)

So ....

At the moment I have the same feeling of helplessness as when the boat goes aground; there is absolutely nothing you can do about it until the tide comes in ..... so ... it is now time to put the fire on and have a dram ... and deal with it when things get operational again!

CHRISTMAS PREPARATIONS NO 3 - SHOPPING

I do all the shopping for presents and, on the whole, am quite happy to do this.  Most of the time I bump into people that I know.  Never one to be backward about coming forward I will often fall into conversation with someone and no more so that Glasgow wifies sitting on the train or flicking through the clothing rail in, say, Marks and Spencers.

The covered shopping mall in Buchanan Galleries is once of my usual haunts.  At this time of year I reckon the whole of the city should have a glass roof over it!

Lots of sparkles in the mall.

And Princes Square had this big tree in the middle of the central well.  I remember when our children's orchestra played there.  The shop owners on various levels situated around the open well really didn't like it at all... "too much noise"!

On the very top floor of Waterstone's, Sauchiehall Street, Bookstore is this piano in their coffee bar. It's for the public to play.

And this is the stool that was with it.  It is certainly very colourful!

I loved the funky signs at the Milngavie British Rail Station platform coffee kiosk.  I said to the chap serving the coffee that there was a wonderful smell of frying sausages coming from his van.  "It's just my after-shave!"  says he!

I came across an outdoor clothing store on Crow Road called Cotswolds.  It was like walking into one of the stores on 4th Avenue in Vancouver!  This brand of outdoor clothing caught my eye 'Arcteryx' which is made in North Vancouver.  I bought a jacket there when Alastair took us to the store some years ago...still have it.

Finally this photo illustrates one of the many headaches when it comes to parking around Glasgow.  Just about everywhere is now organised such that you have to pay at a machine for a parking ticket.  That's fair enough; what irritates me is that often the machines don't work, or in the case of the photo above, you can't find it!  Finally I asked a passer-by and she pointed to the hedge where it was very cleverly concealed.