The Clootie Dummmplin.

The Clootie Dummmplin!

Aal Mrs Robson wiz an affa fine craiter an so wiz her man Jocky. He’d been the gravedigger for Macduff Toon Cooncil up at the Myrus cemetary until he retired in 1935. They bade doon at the heed o Hutcheon street yonder but the hoosie like themsels is lang awa an forgotten, an mair’s the peety.

They’d a fine yard at the back o the hoosie faar Jocky grew aa kinds o berries an vegetables an sic like. By this time Jocky wiz gettin on a bittie an wisna sae swaak aboot the hochs as he eence wiz. Noo it wiz a greet an a girn tae get yokit an michty but the yard wiz a fair caa tee. Onyhoo wi this the gairden wiz getting gye neglecit like this didna suit Mrs Robson ava so she suggested he speir at his pal Ackers Lendrum if he’d dee the yard for him. Ackers wiz a lot younger than Jocky and hid teen ower his job fin he’d retired. Fin asked Ackers said ‘Michty aye min I’ll fairly dee that!’

   Nae siller changed haans of coorse but Ackers wid be getting a share in the produce. Noo this arrangement suited Ackers doon tae the grun for he’d sell his share tae the local shops tae mak a sair knott shillin for his beer. Better norr that ilka time he vrocht in the yard Mrs Robson wid come oot wi a slab o clootie dumplin. She’d speir at him ‘Wid ye be likin a daad o clootie dummmplin Ackers ?’ Michty but Ackers wiz that fond o her dumplin an tae Mrs Robson he praised her clootie dumplin (or as she’d say clootie dummmplin) tae the high heavens. An wi this praise aa the mair clootie dummmplins did she’d mak.

   It wiz the hinner eyne o the season an Ackers wiz clearin the grun an dailin it ower for the neist year. Aal Jocky helpit faar he could an brunt aa the deed growth in the midden tae mak intae potash for the gairden. They were vrochtin awa newsin aboot this an that an ivvery noo an then Ackers wid gyang ower tae the plate a big slab o clootie dumplin lay on an teer aff anither fyang o’t an mash it doon his thrapple. Aal Jocky jist shook his heed thinkin ‘Michty that’s aboot the third slab o’t he’s pitten awa an it nae haaf throwe the mornin’s yokin. Gweed sakes faar diz he pit it aa?’ Onywye Jocky teen a barrafae o kale reets ower the wye o the midden wi a bit o a grunt for his hochs were playin up eynoo. There wiz an affa narra bit atween the shed an the hoordin. Ahin the hoordin lay the midden. As he passed throwe wi the loaded barra his sark caught on a nail that near tore it fae his back aathegither.
Wi a curse an a bit o a stotter Jocky coupit the barra an skailed the kale reets aboot the grun. Mair than cursin he made tae pick athing up but faa should come inaboot but Mrs Robson hersel?
‘Michty min that’s an affa din yer at! Fit’s the waur wi ye?’ Jocky wiz grummlin aboot the skailed reets an his gweed sark bein ruined. Ackers wiz taakin aa this in an kittlin Jocky up. He lookit neen ower pleased aboot it. So Ackers teen the chance o a bit rest an anither daad o dumplin tae sit an watch the ongyans.
‘It’s ma gweed sark! Look at that!’ Mrs Robson hid a lookie at it sayin , ‘Gweed be here min that sark’s like yersel aal an deen . I’ll nae be able tae sort that!’ Jocky started grummlin eence mair but Mrs Robson stoppit him in mid grummle.
‘Tak it aff ye girnin all bugger an I’ll get ye anither yin!’ So sayin she made intae the hoose. Still a bittie vrocht up Jocky did as he wiz bid an teen it aff but nae afore he’d teen his wastcoat, gallusus an belt aff first though.
Ackers wiz sittin watchin the reels an mashin yet mair dumplin intae his face. Jocky’s sark wiz made o thick wool like the army wore but a grey colour that hid lang tails tae them tae haap a man’s back fae the caal. As he teen it aff Ackers spotted dried shite stickin tae the tail o’t an throwe a moothfae o dumplin shouted
‘Michty Jocky ye must’ve let the tail o yer sark get in the road o yer last shite min!’
Commin ower a glaickit Jocky wuppit up the sark tae hide the offendin broon bits an wiz on the point o haivin it ontae the midden fin Mrs Robson returned wi anither sark.
Ackers throwe a big moothfae o crummles shouted ‘Caught wi the shite covered tail!’
Mrs Robson gye come at says tae Jocky ‘Fit are ye deein min? Ye mauna throw that awa!’ So sayin she grabbit it fae him an taakin a pair o shears fae her aapron pooch started cuttin aff the shite covered tail sayin ‘Ye ken fine I like tae keep the tails o yer aal sarks for tae mak ma clootie dummmplins!’

end.

 

copyright © Sanners Gow
  

The Diary o' a Feel at the Skweel (The Coo's Goosie.)

 

 

The Coo's Goosie.

There wiz an affa excitement in the class as we got riggit for the big bus run. Michty me aa us geets were gan in meltdoon as the teacher made us tidy oor desks then gang tae the pegs tae get oor cwites on. My mither hid even allooed ma tae pit on ma brand new cwite for the day an tellt ma tae mine an nae leave it hingin on the pegs. I eyee mine it wiz kind o like a broon tweed wi a wee herrin bone pattern that reached tae ma knees. Cosy pie an affa smairt, ma heedy wiz fair rockin wi pride at thes coat.

We hid tae line up in the playgrun in gweed order tae wyte for the bus. I fichered makin sure ma cwite wiz hingin perfectly.

Spikk aboot pride afore a faa?

Onywye the bussie arrived an we boorded wi the teacher gettin us seated for the journey. She even smiled at me and that I can tell ye hid nivver happened afore. I wiz mair eest tae bulgin een an furraad broos fae her as she gave me a row for nae deein recht. But a smile nivver!

The bus journey wisna affa lang though only aboot three miles oot the road tae the big dairy up the Langmin hill aside Macduff. We were tae be given a guided toor o the dairy tae see foo they milkit the coos an pit the milk intae the bottles.

Noo thes wiz aboot 1960 so the plant must've been gye new an nae doot the fairmer hid been gye prood o't. Ye could fairly see that as he teen us throwe the dairy showin us foo thes or that wiz deen. The coos were aa bonny an clean as they steed in staas gettin milkit wi milkin machines. Then ontae the bit faar the milk ran ower grills tae be cooled doon. The grills lookit for aa the world like a bigger version o ma mither's washboord. Then ontae the bit I really wanted tae see. The bottle fillin machine. Mechty hit wiz a recht bit o kit. The bottles passed under the machine an came oot the ither eyne fulled an ready for cappin. A couple o deemies did thes wi a a thing like a bell an pressed doon pittin on the metal foil caps. I mine bein affa impressed wi thes an could've deen tae ficher wi een o them tae see foo it vrocht. Oh me I fairly enjoyed seein foo athing wiz deen an tae thes day fanivver I gang past that place I mind on it as if it wiz yestreen.

The ither bit wisna so gweed though.

Aifter we'd heen the toor the fairmer teen us back tae the place faar the coos were still gettin milkit. His wife hid a surprise for his an gave each o us a wee paper cup o icecream wi a timmer speen tae ait it wi. She tellt us it wis made fae the very milk fae the coos stannin ahin us. Oh mechty me ye couldna get better norr at!

The fairmer started tellin us stories aboot vrochtin among coos as we ait thes fine icecream. Oor teacher wiz spikkin awa tae the fairmer's wife wi a normal look on her face and even a ‘chortle chortle’noo an then. Nae the normal face I wiz eest tae wi the bulgin een an lowered angry broos. That wifie eyee wore a pearl necklace an that drew yer attention tae the slack skin aneath her chin an mechty me foo hit eest tae shoogle aboot fan she got angry at ye. My thochts were interupted wi some o the geets shoutin at ma "Sanners watch oot!" an lookin ahin ma pyntit at something. Noo onybody else wid've jist moved but nae me. Na na I hid tae look ahin ma jist in time tae watch a coo's ershole discharge abeen ma. The coos were up on a wee bank in the staas tae mak it easier for the fairmer tae attach the milkin machines tae the udders so as the coo emptied itsel gravity and height came intae play an covered me fae heed tae fit in teemins.

Till the day I dee I'll nivver forget lookin up as thes green goore fell ower ma. Ma mooth must've been open ana in a silent scream as thes warm goore poored ower ma an fulled it as weel as the wee tub o icecream. There wiz a babble o voices ahin ma as I boaked an plenty 'Gyaad sakes!' but I wiz mair concerned aboot ma new cwite so boakin ma guts up I tried tae scrape the coo's teemins aff o it wi ma haans. That's fan ma lippie really started tremmlin an if memory serves I think I started a low keenin soon fae deep doon in ma thrapple. The teacher gid gyte wi ma though for bein a bliddy feel staanin under a coo. Mechty me she wisna affa happy ava an seemed at a loss as fit tae dee wi ma. The fairmer's wife steed intae the breach though an made me wash oot ma moo wi a bottle o milk an spit athing oot. Then she got weet cloots an dichted as muckle o the teemins affa ma as she could. Aa the while the teacher wiz rantin at ma as I wiz whimperin aboot ma new cwite. Spikk aboot a 'lippy tremmlin' moment! Onywye athing eventually calmed doon. The fairmer's wife must've heen geets o her ain an wiz affa kind tae ma tellin ma that ma cwite wid easily wash an be as gweed as new. She gave me anither tub o icecream ana but it didna taste as gweed as the first een though.

On the wye back tae the skweel I wiz avoided by abody an must’ve heen ten seats atween me an the rest o the geets. I keepit ma heed doon because the teacher wiz glourin at ma aa the wye wi her usual bulgin een an the wattle aneath her chin fair shooglin wi supressed anger at ma. I’d be gettin ma tatties fae her eence back at the skweel I mine thinkin. But I got sent hame instead because I wiz bowfin.

On reflection I learned something valuable that day. Here's fit I learnt.

In Macduff if somebody hid a reed inflamed ee fowk wid say tae them "Michty ye've an ee on ye like a 'coo's goosie'. I eyee winnert fit a coo's goosie wiz? But that day I fun oot 'exactly' fit a coo's goosie wiz. I lookit up at een as it emptied itsel ower ma.

Ma mither got ma cwite as gweed as new an I wore it for ages efterhins but fyles on a warm day I wiz sure I could still smell the coo's teemins aff o't.

 

copyright © Patrick Hutchison

The Postymortum. "Ae min?"

The Postymortum. “Ae min?”

Sandy Connach and his mate Goggs Blaad were vrochtin at the Hill o Turlundie aside the Cyack. At Turlundie there wiz fower council hooses biggit back in the fifties for fairm workers but noo wi changing needs as regards parkin motor cars they were cutting in wee hardstannin areas in front o each o the fower hoosies.

Fin they arrived there Sandy hid said tae Goggs “Goad min a richt fine jobbie tae keep us oot o langer!” Goggs hid nodded his heed at this but thocht tae himself ‘Na na Sandy this his got dam aa tae dee wi a fine wee jobbie!’ Goggs teen a quick look aroon him and as far as the yak could see there wiz trees. Noo fin Sandy saw trees he didna see them the same as the rest o us as big tall bonny things wyvin in the breeze. Na Sandy saw them cuttit doon and intae piles o bonny wee cloggies awytin his bogey for tae tak them hame tae Macduff. Now this story his got bugger all tae dee wi trees as I only mention them as tae show fit kind o a character oor Sandy is. Onywye on wi the story--.

Across fae faar the boys were vrochtin steed the cottar hoose o Turlundie. A richt set up placie it wiz wi a great big gairden surrounded wi drysteen waas aboot as heich as a man budy’s middle. The gairden wiz stappit foo o fit oor Sandy wid caa ‘goodies!’. At the richthaan side there wiz ten dreels o tatties gyan the full length o the yard and they were weel kypit up wi the taps o them wyvin in the breeze wi some even beginnin tae flooer.
Sandy noo leanin ower the waa wi the usual rollup in his lip longed tae get a graip in among the buggers. Next tae the tatties there wiz twa neat plots, een wi ingins the ither wi carrots. Sandy wisna ower sure but some o the carrots lookit tae him as if they were beginnin tae shot an gyang tae seed? At the ither side o the yard wiz teen up wi raas o pey pods and they were hingin in bunches like pyokes o cuddy’s pizzles. Aside them but oot a bittie wiz a big plot o strawberries weel covered wi aal fishin nets tae keep the birdies oot fae them an the plants themsels keepit fae the grun by bonny yella strae that fair garred the bonny reed strawberries staan oot. At this point Sandy hid remove his rollup fae his mooth tae dicht awa the slaivers as he drooled at the sicht.
  There wiz sax things that maist fowk that kent Sandy loved. Tabbaca, drink, weemin, fechtin, trees and his collie dowg Paddy. But? There wiz twa ither things that maist fowk jist didna ken ava and that wiz his love o peypods and strawberries. He could ait puns o the buggers. Sandy pinged awa his noo slaiver soaked tabby and wint back across the road faar Goggs wiz howkin.
As Sandy gid inaboot he said in a low voice tae Goggs that if the opportunity arose he wiz gan tae plunder the bliddy gairden. Goggs steed up at this sayin
“Ye canna dee that min!” But Sandy wiz adamant. Goggs pyntid oot that he’d get the bliddy jyle. Sandy tellt him he’d deen it plenty times in Macduff fin he wiz a loon. Goggs got torn in
“Aye ye were a bairn then min, if ye gyang aboot deein things like at as a man ye’ll get the jyle an then twintyfower different colours o the broon stuff kicked oot o ye by the police!”
Ah but Sandy widna listen ava he wiz determined tae hae a plunder. At this Goggs lost the rag
“Look Sandy if you gyang traipsin aboot the man’s yard chorin stuff wi size ten hobberts (tackety beets) on they winna hae far tae look tae find the culprit?”
Then Goggs pyntid oot tae Sandy as if he wiz a gype that as he also wore size tens o hobberts he’d be in the drait ana and he’d also get twintyfower different colours o drait kicked oot o him wi size thirteens o hobberts attached tae the leg o a big reed faced Heilan bobby. Na na he jist wisna for that ava! Sandy still adamant tellt Goggs that if the bobbies came they’d ken it wiz him Sandy that wiz tae blame! Goggs couldna believe fit he wiz hearin
“How in the name o Christ could they ken it wiz you min?” Then said “Baith o’s weer size ten hobberts so they’ll jist kick baith o’s tae hell and be deen w’t.
Sandy eventually saw sense in fit Goggs wiz sayin an thocht better o gyan plunderin. Mind you that didna stop him fae gyan across the road noo-an-then lookin ower the dyke intae the yard. He’d staan there wi the slaivers fleein fae his mooth like a barley bull lookin at a park o heifers. At this times Goggs keepit a loochy’s yak ontae in case he loupit ower the dyke.

Ae day Sandy wiz haein a smoke leanin ower the dyke and droolin as usual at the peypods an strawberries fin a voice speired at him
“Fit are you deein here? Ae min?”
Sandy near loupit clear oot o his skin an shouted oot
“Oo ya hooer!” nearly swallyin his wee tabbie.
An there it steed! Nae as heich as the dyke an as braid as it wiz lang weerin a pair o cut doon dungarees wi a flat cap straacht on its heed like a vision fae the nineteen twinties. The pysog ablow the cap wid pit a budy in mind o a futtritt lookin at a rubbit. Sandy recoverin a bittie by this time an spittin bits o tabbaca fae his gob managed a guilty “Nithing!” like a bairn bein caught wi an airmfae o aipples up a tree. The wee manny gid a haaf smile, well if ye could caa it a smile but it still lookit like a futtritt lookin at a rubbit tae Sandy. The wee manny said
“That’s a guilty conscience there ae min?”
Sandy managed a haafherted “Na na min nithing o the kind I wiz jist admirin a weel set up yard!” He felt like endin the sentence wi an “Ae min!”
The aal lad ended ilka sentence wi an “Ae min?” an Sandy bein Sandy noticed this habit richt awa. He couldna wait tae tell Goggs but he’d nae tae wyte lang for Goggs came across the road tae see the ongyans. As ye mind Goggs wiz still keepin a loochy’s ee on Sandy incase he loupit the dyke an haived throwe the gairden wi his size ten hobberts crushin aathing aneth him.

Och in nae time they were aa newsin aboot this an that and Sandy keepit slippin in plenty “Ae mins?” for the benefit o Goggs. The aal lad didna seem tae notice this but Goggs did an it teen aa his self control nae tae burst oot laachin.
Onywye they got on richt weel wi this aal lad getting a richt aalfarrent news wi him. That is aifter ye got eest tae hearin him in his droll wye endin ilka sentence wi “Ae min?” Of course Sandy got a hud o this an drivin hame that nicht Goggs mair than eence near put the van aff the road laachin at Sandy mockin the aal lad wi plenty”Ae mins?”

It wisna a big job so the boys were seen feenished up and on the last day aifter tidyin aathing awa an wi the van loaded they crossed the road for a last news wi the aal lad. He’d promised he’d gie them some peypods an strawberries afore they wun awa hame. Sandy even teen his flasks oot o his haiversaik ready for tae load up wi aa the promised ‘goodies’. Leanin ower the dyke the twa lads were newsin awa but the aal lad seemed gye distracted so they speired at him fit wiz wrang? It materialised he’d thocht his carrots hid shot an were gan tae seed Ae min?
Onywye tae cut a lang story short Sandy tellt him he’d thocht the carrots were shot the first time he’d lookit intae the gairden. The result o this wiz a lot o “Ae mins?” then the aal lad heeded for the carrot bed an pu’d een oot. He came back tae the boys an laid the carrot on tap o the dyke sayin in a melancholy voice “I’ll dee een o yon postymortums things tae fin oot! Ae min?” So sayin he teen he teen fae his pooch a weel worn lamm’s fit k-nife an like a surgeon began his postymortum on the carrot as if a pathologist on tv. Sandy hid tae leave at this pynt crossin the the road tae wun intae the van an Goggs could hear the maist affa hissin soon comin fae the van. Aifter a fylie Sandy managed tae wun back kindo composed. Goggs could see tear stains hid runnled doon the cement styowe on his face wi laachin. The aal lad lookit up fae his postymortum on the carrot sayin “Gweed sakes the bugger is shot! Ae min?”
Sandy pulled a mock concerned face an speird the aal lad if he’d given the carrot anesthetic afore the operation? Ae min? This wiz lost on the aal lad because he wiz that vrocht up but it wisna lost on Goggs so it wiz his turn tae bolt for the van and a kekklin soon could be heard as he wint intae the kinks o laachter.

Sandy by this time hid lost aa interest in carrots an cut tae the chase wi a subtle hint by layin his teem haiversaik on tap o the dyke an kindo mentioned the aal lad’s promise aboot peypods an strawberries. The aal lad still gye vrocht up aboot his carrots didna seem tae tak the subtle hint wi Sandy’s teem pyoke until Sandy reminded him ootricht aboot his promise. This teen the aal lad tae the fore an wi a
“Michty aye loon jist gie me a minty an I’ll get them. Ae min?” Sandy fair trickit made sure there wisna ony cement styowe in his pyoke by turnin it upsidesdoon an duntin it on the heed o the dyke an steed there wytin for the loads o peypods an strawberries wi the slaivers fleein fae his mooth.Ae min?
A minty or twa later the aal lad came back an laid the load o peypods an strawberries on tap o the dyke wi an “Ae min?” Sandy couldna believe his een. On the heed o the dyke lay one peypod an one strawberry. Sandy jist steed there wi his moo hingin open. Nae aften in life hid oor Sandy been stuck for words? This time though there wiz nae words, nae even a groan. He jst steed there lookin doon at the single peypod an the single strawberry then up at the aal lad’s face then back doon tae the heed o the dyke. The aal lad by this time seekin some kind o response like a show o gratitude for his selfless act o generosity jist watched Sandy wi a puzzled frown till something clicked in the aal lad’s heed “OH!” says he lookin ower at the van faar oot o sicht Goggs wiz still rollin aboot in the hysterics “Yer mate will be seekin some ana? Ae min?”

Aboot a fortnich later an affa come at set up. The police were at the gairden an the aal lad wiz in an affa state . Nearly aa the peys an strawberries hid been chored. Oh me there wiz even tears in his een. “Ae min?” Nae only hid he lost his peypods an strawberries but faaivver hid deen it steed ower the heeds o aa the carrots an hid systematically wint up an doon the dreels crushin ivvery single een o them wi the heel o his beet. Some tattie dreels hid been kickit tae buggery ana! The police couldna mak onything o it barr tell the aal lad that there’d been twa o them an they baith wore size tens o hobberts. Fin the police left een said tae the ither “Ken this min? If I got my haans on the lads that did this I’d tak them back tae the station an kick twintyfower different colours o drait fae them wi ma size thirteen an a haaf hobberts!” The ither bobby agreed sayin “Aye sae wid I. But ye do ken we’ll nivver fin oot faa did this? Ae min?” 


 

copyright © Sanners Gow

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Tales fae Doctor Festing Makadoork's case book. Mrs Clushet fae Faaldydykes.

Mrs Clushet o Faaldydykes.

Doctor Makadoork sat back fae his desk and teen aff his glaisses and pressed the brig o his nose atween forefinger and thoom for a minty. It hid been a gye busy mornin wi as muckle fowk comin doon wi the winter fever and aa seekin a cure for’t. He shook his heed nae wi annoyance but wi fatigue and the hope he himsel wisna comin doon w’t ana. Nae maitter he’d nae the time tae be naeweel. Pullin oot his pocket watch he saw that he’d a wee bitty time for a cuppy o tay an something tae ate afore he yokit the horse and gig for this day’s rounds. Gettin up stiffly fae his desk he readied his doctor’s bag wi some o the things he’d be nottin that day. Aboot tae leave he mind tae turn oot the lamp. Yestreen he’d wint awa and left it burning, wasting paraffin wisna the worst o’t? The thocht o coming back tae the hoose tae find it brunt tae the grun because he forgot tae pit it oot wiz far worse. Snappin the bag shut he laid it on the cheer aside the door and wiz awa tae gyang throwe the hoose tae the scullery tae pit the kettle on. Opening the door o the surgery faa should he find sitting there on the aal pew o the waiting room but Mrs Clushet fae Faaldydykes? He almost moaned oot loud but rallied himsel tae be pleasant wi a “Oh I didna ken there wiz onybody waiting tae see ma?” Noo Mrs Clushet o Faaldydykes wiz ivvery doctor’s nightmare. Een o yon patients that awaken each mornin and winder ‘Fit’s wrang wi ‘me’ the day?’ an quickly come rinnin if a fart in their erses gings wrang. In ither words a hypochondriac! Weel past middle age Mrs Clushet o Faaldydykes wiz nivvertheless as fit as a flea but always seemed tae be worried aboot different illnesses. Doctor Makadoork tried his best usually tae reassure her athing wiz aaricht and at a haafcroon for ilka consultation she wiz a good patient in that respect. Mair norr half his patients struggled tae pey the haafcroon an mair aften than nae they’d pey him wi eggs, tatties or a hen or twa. Michty he’d he’d a herd an a haaf o the buggers rinnin aboot the place somewye an divil o an egg hid he yet managed tae find?

“Ye’d better wun throwe tae ma surgery Mrs Clushet.” says he. Fair beamin she held her wye in and sat doon on the cheer as Doctor Makadoork wheeched awa his doctor’s bag in time afore she sat her doup ontae it. Gyan roon the desk and sittin doon he speired at her fit ailed her the day?

“Well.” says she “I’ve been noticing ower the last fyowe mornins that my een are affa weak fin I read the paper. Div ye hae ony idea fit could be wrang Doctor Makadoork?” Doctor Makadoork thoughtfully kind said “Well Mrs Clushet I’d better hae a wee look at yer een for starters.” He’d tae licht his lamp first for there wisna muckle daylicht penetrated the room at this time o day. He hid a look at her een wi his lenses for the job.

“Can ye see how my een are so weak in the mornins doctor?” speired Mrs Clushet. He stood back and rubbed his chin and athoot sayin onything he wint inaboot tae his bookshelf o medical beuks an selected yin. Takin it back tae his desk nearer the lamp he started tae flick throwe the pages and stoppin ivvery noo an then tae rin his finger doon the page as if lookin in mair detail. He started makkin tuttin sounds and slightly shakkin his heed. Mrs Clushet moved forritt “Oh fit’s wrang doctor, oh me fit’s wrang?” He looked up intae her pensive face still makkin a tuttin sound and shackin his heed. Closin the beuk wi a snap that made Mrs Clushet jump and takkin aff his glaisses he pinched the brig o his nose purely for effect and in a tone o doom said “Well Mrs Clushet I think I’ve found oot fit’s wrang wi yer een bein so weak in the mornin?” Mrs Clushet near in a state o collapse her hypochondriac’s mind started tae race and she managed in a reedy tone tae ask “Will I die o’t doctor?” Tae pit her at her ease he shook his heed sayin “Na na Mrs Clushet dam ee fear’s o’t ye winn be gyan tae the kirkyard yet quine?” The look o relief that came ower her face wiz a picter. He continued wi “The reason yer een are so weak in the mornin is quite straacht forritt and nae life threatening ava” he wyted a second or twa for even mair effect afore sayin “The reason is this-Mrs Clushet o Faaldydykes- yer een are in an affa weak place!”

end.

 

copyright © Patrick Hutchison

Jookle

Twa wifies shoppin at a supermarket inaboot at the caal meat section. "Michty me!" says Mrs Smith "Wid ye tak a look at the price o the spam!" The ither wifie says "Aye it's gettin ower dear nooadays it's a national scandal!" Mrs Smith jist shook her heed sayin "I jist dinna ken fit I'm gan tae pit intae ma man Jockie's piece denner noo at that prices?"
The ither wifie says in a whisper "I get a tin o dogfood for my man's denner tae spread on his piece ilka day and he disna ken the difference ava." Mrs Smith fair teen aback at this "Oh michty my Jockie wid ken the difference straacht awa if I did that!"
But the ither wifie shook her heed "Na na he widna ken if ye pit some o yon chillies sauce intae it. And onywye at 40 pence a tin dogfood's much chaiper than spam at twa poun a pack." Mrs Smith still doubtful but gye stumpit for siller bocht a tin o 'Jookle' dogfood tae gee it a try. A puckle weeks later Mrs Smith wiz back intae the supermarket fin faa should she bump intill but the ither wifie. She speired at her how her man wiz gettin on wi his doogfood piece denners? At this Mrs Smith burst oot greetin sayin her man Jockie wiz deed. "Oh me!" says the ither woman "That's affa. Fit happened?" Mrs Smith dryin her een shook her heed and replied "We're nae richt sure fit happened but me an Jockie were sittin watchin T.V. ae nicht fin he started barkin like a dog and chasin his ain tail. "Oh michty!" says the ither woman. Mrs Smith continued "Well this wint on for a fair while till eventually he fell aff the settee and broke his neck!"

"Angels Ten"

   I wiz drivin throwe Banff ae day and saw a sign sayin there wiz a carboot at the Tesco car park. I drew inaboot an there wiz an affa boorach o cars sellin aa the odds ‘n’ eins fowk wanted rid o. I’d a raik aboot lookin at the books but they were maistly Mills & Boones or that kind o thing, nae interest tae me ava. I came upon this boot an the aaler wifie hid books mair tae my likin so I’d a gweed raik among them. I got a twar three that interested ma. The wifie said “It looks like ye’ll be a minty or twa wid you look aifter the stall for me? She added “I’m needin tae pooder my nose!” I wiz gye surprised at this because she didna ken me fae Adam an tae leave me in charge o her stall wi some gye expensive lookin ornaments put me aff my styter. She must’ve seen my predicament and said “I winna be lang and ye’ve got an honest face. I tellt her I didna mind lookin aifter it for her but speired fit wid happen if onybody wanted tae buy something? She laughed an replied “Michty min are ye blin? The prices are on athing. She pointed tae the ice cream tub “There’s change in there!” An wi that she wiz off towards the shop. I got a fyowe mair books and saw some mair aneth the table so I’d a raik there ana. I opened ae box an inside wiz a sheep’s wool jaicket o the kind ye see in aal war films. “Michty this wid dee ma fine for vrochtin in the wids!” I tried it on and it fitted like a glove. “It suits ye!” This wiz the wifie back. I tellt her the jaicket wid be good for the winter. I did a twirl like a gype an she teen a richt laugh tae hersel. I speired at her foo muckle she’d nott for it? “Och it’s jist an aal thing and it wiz good o ye lookin aifter my stall so wid a fiver be ower muckle?” I handed the siller ower richt awa plus one fifty for aa the books. As I left I noticed this aal mannie sittin in the front passanger seat o her car. He wiz glowrin at ma wi an angry face. A wee bittie put oot at this an mair than puzzled as tae why she got me tae look aifter her stall fin the aal man wiz sittin there. I jist shrugged my shooders and headed back tae my landy. I threw the jaicket an the books ontae the seat and left tae gyang hame tae Macduff. I showed the jaicket tae my mither and she said it wiz fae the war and she mind the pilots weerin them. There wiz a tear on the richt side but it hid been repaired but my mither didna like the dark broon stain on the inside. She said it looked like bleed that hid been washed aff at some point and it wiz in line wi the repaired tear. She tried sair tae get the stain oot but nithing she could dee wid get rid o it. But onywye it wiz aricht stain or no and I wore it in the wids and richt fine it wiz.

 

   Aboot the hinmaist week o October I wiz takin doon a puckle firs fae the side o the main road that were gettin in the wye o high sided trucks. I’d feenished vrocht for the day and put my saw an chines in back o the landy Fin I wint intae the cab the landrover started tae rock back an forritt as if bein buffeted by a strong wind. “Strange!” I stepped oot o the cab an there wiz hardly a breath o ween. Ower the next couple o weeks the same thing happened a fyowe mair times. I jist didna ken fit wiz causin it but I jist caa’d awa an kindo ignored it. Ae nicht though comin hame late things got a lot worse. I wiz comin doon the Slacks at Keilhill fin the buffitin started eence mair but this time I thocht somebody hid thrown a haanfae o chuckies at my motor because I heard the pitter patter o them as they hut the side o the landy. I stopped and reversed back tae faar I thocht the steens hid been thrown fae but nae a sign o onybody could I see for it wiz comin doon dark. I wiz fairly gettin puzzled aboot fit wiz gyan on, even tae the extent o checkin oot the suspension o my landy. For a fyle aifter that nithing happened an I thocht the grease I’d pitten in the suspension hid fixed the problem. Aye but it wisna tae last because ae nicht as weel as the usual buffetin an chuckies hittin the side o my ladny I saw flashes like lichtin. The buffetin got as bad it wiz like tae pit ma aff the road. The thumpin an bangin at the side o my landy wiz unreal an fin I got hame I checked oot the bodywork tae see if there wiz ony damage. But apart fae the normal bashes an dints ye’d expect fae a vehicle that spent maist o its life in the wids there wisna a mark. Aboot a week later I’d been takin a puckle trees doon up the Cullen wye for the Hydro. Big bonny beech trees they were but as they were ower near the power lines they hid tae come doon. I vrocht late sneddin the branches an cuttin them intae cloggies, that wiz een o my perks I got aa the limbs tae masel. I planned tae tak the boggie up wi ma neist day an load up. My mither wid be fair kinichted wi the beech cloggies for they burned like a cannle.

On the wye hame tae Macduff the bangin an flashin started again at this side o Portsoy but even mair coorse than afore. I realised by noo that something abnormal wiz happenin. I didna ken if I should stop the landy an rin awa or jist sink the tackit an hope it wid stop. In the event the decision wiz teen oot o ma hands fin a mighty bang an something came throwe the driver’s door an punched ma fair in the richt side knockin ivvery inch o breath fae ma. There wiz mair flashes and things hittin the landy but I’d better things tae worry aboot as a tearin pain tore at my intimmers. Fin I put doon ma hand I could feel the bleed pumpin ower it. “Some bastard hit shot ma for Christ’s sake!” By this time I could feel my heed begin tae sweem and my een got affa blurry but even throwe the haze I kent nae tae stop because faivver hid shot ma micht come an finish the job. I vaguely mind keepin tae the richt side o the road then the next thing I kent I’m in a hospital bed wi tubes stickin oot o ma aa ower the place.

 

   A doctor came inaboot an speired foo I wiz feelin but my reply made nae sense tae me so I dinna ken fit it sounded like tae him. He jist smiled and left.

Ower the next couple o days I manage tae get up and aboot but my side wiz affa sair. The police came tae tak a statement. They’d found my landy crashed intae the gates o the Roads Department’s yard at Boyndie and mysel tryin tae climb the high gates for some reason. So I tellt them fit hid happened and that some bugger hid shot ma. I couldna explain why I’d been tryin tae climb the gate because I mind nithing aboot that. This started a big search o the area but nithin wiz found. The landy hid mair holes in it than a sieve and they said I wiz lucky tae be alive. The police that found me hid pushed dressings they cairried in their first aid kit intae the hole in my side then rushed me tae Chalmers Hospital.

The doctor that saved my life came tae see me. His father wiz a doctor at Banff but on the nicht I wiz brocht in he wiz fullin in for his father. He’d jist came hame fae a tour o duty in Afghanistan and spotted immediately that I’d shrapnel wounds and hid operated tae stop the bleedin. Athoot that I’d be in a box. Of course I thanked him for my life and we got tae newsin aboot fit hid happened. I tellt him aa the things I couldna tell the police, aboot the strange flashes and bangs ower the past couple months. I thocht he’d laugh at ma but he didna. Instead he handed me a copy o that week’s Banffie sayin “Read this!”

The Banffie hid ran the story aboot the mystery surrounding the shooting on the road atween Portsoy an Banff and aboot me how ill I wiz blah blah but it wiz the end o the article that made the hairs on the back o my neck stand up. The landrover had been found crashed into the gateway of the Roads Department’s yard at Boyndie which had once been the hospital for the old wartime aerodrome nearby. A lot o pennies started tae faa intae place at this revelation but I kept it tae masel. Eventually I made a full recovery fae my wounds.

 

   The next year I wint back tae the carboot that wiz held the same time each year tae see if I could find the wifie that hid sellt ma the jaicket. By good luck she wiz there wi her stall and I wint inaboot an got newsin tae her. I speired her aboot the jaicket so she tellt ma it wiz her father’s. He’d flown mosquitoes fae Boyndie during the war deein sweeps across the North sea tae attack German convoys aff the coast o occupied Norway. She tellt ma on one attack they’d came under heavy fire fae a German flack ship and hid been badly damaged. His navigator hid been killed and her father badly wounded but somehow he’d managed tae get back and hid made a crash landing at Boyndie. My hert by this time wiz gyan like a trip haimmer. I could hardly speak but I managed tae compose masel lang enough tae speir “Far aboot wiz yer father wounded?” She pointed tae her richt side and said a lump o shrapnel fae the flack hid made a hole the size o her fist intae his side. So I tellt her athing aboot fit hid happened tae me even tae showin her the fist sized scar in my side. But fin I tellt her aboot the aal mannie sittin in her passenger seat glowrin at ma fin I left wi the jaicket the year afore that she got gye upset. She teen a photo fae her handbag an showed it tae ma sayin this wiz teen a couple years afore he died. “Aye that’s the man richt enough! He seemed affa angry an glowered at ma!” The woman hid tae sit doon on the tailgate o her car an I thocht she’d pass oot athegither. She then tellt ma that her father hid always said that fin he died he wanted his Irvine fleein jaicket draped ower his coffin. In the event she’d forgotten aa aboot his wish and by the time she remembered it wiz ower late. She’d kept his jaicket for years but hid thocht that somebody could get the gweed o it so last year hid decided tae sell it at the carboot.

 

   Onywye between us we decided tae gie her father his wish and approached the cooncil. Of course we’d tae tell them the reason as tae why we nott the grave opened an tae oor surprise they listened wi a sympathetic ear. Permission wiz granted and on the appointed day the grun wiz opened at Myrus cemetery Macduff. Baith o us stood there as the lads cleared the earth awa and checked the coffin wiz still in ae bit. By gweed luck athing wiz fine and we went forritt tae pit the jaicket doon the hole. The woman turned tae me sayin “Since you suffered maist because o that jaicket wid you like tae pit it in place?” Takin it fae her I wint doon intae the grave and placed it on the coffin and tae this day I’m sure I heard radio static and voices fae the past chatterin awa and one voice as clear as a bell say -

“At angels ten red leader!”

The Enchanted Way.

The Enchanted Way.


This happened tae me a puckle years ago, well mair than a puckle years, a gye puckle years ago one day fin I wint oot for a wee bit wander. It wiz an affa hot day in July it wiz an feelin a bit peched wi the heat I saw a richt bonny wee burn. At ae side the girss wiz that green and shaded as it wiz by a fyowe trees by the burnside I made my wye tae it for tae rest a while. I sat masel doon wi my back anent a tree. Michty but it wiz fine and cool. If ye sit doon in a place like this and let yersel relax ye start tae tune in tae yer surroundings. I hear the wimmplin o the burn as it slowly ran past faar I sat. In the distance I could hear the barkin o a dog and nearer hand the reed bumbees droned aboot the flooers an lazily collected nectar, it wiz that hot they even teen it canny. The fine sweet spicy smell o the flooers wafted ower me and the grass smelled like times lang past and reminded me as a bairn playin in the new cut girss.
I jist sat there lettin the sounds, smells an memories wash aroon my mind. Michty I could've done wi a cup o tay, that wid mak athing perfect. Next time I gyang for a traivel like this I'll full my flask.
  I teen oot my pipe an kennled it up an added the fine smell o Condor tae the myriad o scents already there. Michty but it disna get better norr this! Mind you a wee cuppy o fine strong tay wid've wint doon a treat aa the same.
"Aye min!" A hard voice sounded jist aside ma. I shaded my een fae the dapplin beams o sunlicht comin throwe the trees tae see faa it wiz wi the hard voice.
"Gweed sakes!" I nearly loupit in the air wi the shock fin I beheld the wee mannie under a fit high. He'd a puckered facie wi a stickin oot tap lip. Ontae his heed he wore fit looked like a Kilmarnock bunnet and green as the girss I sat on wi a reed cockade at one side. His pea jaicket wiz as reed as the cockade and hid green facings tae it like an aal time sojer's cwite, his breeks were o broon moleskin and a wee pair o syvin league boots came up tae his knees and shone like black glaiss. The wee puckered facie smiled an it said-
"That gid ye a flegg ye bugger! Eh? Eh?" He then laached wi a chortling smiting laach that soon hid me jynin in. I managed tae say "Aye did it min!" afore burstin oot laachin eence mair.
I picked up my pipe for it hid fell fae ma mooth wi the shock. He looked at me and then at my pipe "Wid ye hae a bit spare tabacca for ma phiap?" so sayin he pulled oot a smaa pipe or phiap as he caad it fae his pooch. It wiz made fae a half hazelnut wi a bit o strae for a stalk. I handed him my tabacca pooch and watched as its wee fammils teen haanfaes o tabacca an stappit it intae its pipe. It flipped my pooch closed and handed it back nearly teem. I didna think a half hazelnut could hud that muckle? He pulled oot a flint 'n' fleerish and soon the reek wiz yoamin fae its phiap. It lay itsel back on the girss wi a satisfied grunt and started tae diddle a wee tune tae itsel an its wee fittie tappin oot the measure.
I didna ken fit tae say if the truth be tellt. Fit wid you think?
Here's a wee mannie nae a fit high lying on the breed o its back sookin a pipe its wee tap lippy gan oot an in diddlin a tune at the same time. I tell fit ye'd be thinking! Ye'd be thinking yer gan aff the heed an that yer brain hid wint saft that's fit ye'd be thinkin. As this wiz rinnin throwe my heed the wee mannie leaned forritt and gave me a backhand slap across the mooth. "Fit did ye dee that for min?" I speired  rubbin ma mooth an checkin for bleed.
A wee chortle come fae it "Jist tae show yer nae gyan aff the heed like yer thinkin, I’m real!"A wee chortle an a sleekit look tae its face he said "If ye still dinna believe ma I'll gie tae ye anither wullt across the mooth but a better yin next time!" I held up ma hand "Na na it's aricht I believe ye!" He chortled "Ah well that's fine then, I'm glaid that's oot o the wye!" He started tae ficher wi his phiap eence mair so I threw him my tabacca pooch again. Then like a fool I askit o him "Are ye a fairey?"
Well its face collapsed in twa haafs an its tap lip stuck oot like an upturned soup spoon wi a look o anger on its face that made my bleed rin caal.
It girnned oot at ma "Dinna you ivver use that name in my presence again or I'll pit a hump on yer back like Bennachie and gie ye a ringle ee and I micht even add a ganch tae yer speech as a wee bit extra if ye do!" I apologised tae him and askit fit name should I use in the future. He tellt ma they were 'The Gweed Fowk' and that his name wiz 'Wee-Ma-Goorie' He calmed doon aifter that though and its facie turned tae its normal puckered look.
  For a fair fylie we sat and spoke aboot general things. He speired at ma aboot my life and ither odds an sods but seemed reluctant tae say muckle aboot himsel. Tae change the subject he said "If I granted ye a wish for the here and now fit wid ye wish for?"
Now abody wid probably wish for a crock o gold or something like that, ithers wid wish for a hunnder mair wishes. But it disna work like that ava leastwyes nae fin yer confronted wi it. Wee-Ma-Gorrie pynted oot though that a wish canna change 'Time'.
"Weel fit div ye say? It’s nae ivvery day a mortal gets sic an offer!" A wee smile played ower the puckered facie as he sat awytin my reply. It seemed like a lang time passes afore I said-
"Ken this Wee-Ma-Goorie I hinna an answer for ye!" He chortled at this an tried tae tryste a reply fae ma. "Come on noo! Fit aboot a crock o gowd? That wid mak a great man o ye!"
I shook ma heed "How could a crock o gowd mak the likes o me intae a great man? Onywye fit wid I need gowd for I’d still be the same feel as I am noo but wi a big bank account!" At this Wee-Ma-Goorie slapped his knee chortlin "Well done yer nae as feel as ye think ye are!" chortle chortle.
"Well fit aboot learnin the fiddle? Ye said nae minutes ago that wiz een o yer biggest regrets nae learnin tae play!"
Again I shook ma heed "How could I enjoy the music if I’d been granted the ability wi a wish? I’d want tae learn tae play the fiddle by hard work so I can enjoy the music as mine and nae as granted. And noo at aichty fower and my hands buggered wi a lifetime o hard vrocht ahin ma we baith ken that’s nae gyan tae happen wish or no!"
Wee-Ma-Goorie shook his heed an said "Michty min but yer an ill bugger tae please." But he wisna angry aboot it, he’d a smile on his puckered facie. "Aaricht Sanners (for that’s ma name) listen you here." says he "Wid onybody miss ye if ye didna wun hame?" I thocht on that een for a gweed minute or twa and for the life o ma couldna think on onybody that wid miss ma. Apart fae maybe a twa or three fowk I eence vrocht wi. My loons hid been killed in the war, the aalest een at Dunkirk the youngest een at Singapore an my wife hid deet years afore o a broken hert so I says-
"Not a soul min!"
"Well then" Wee-Ma-Goorie said "Why nae come wi me tae the ‘Enchanted Rath and there I’ll learn ye the fiddle like a champion. Fit div ye say?" He smiled and said as if tae entice ma even mair "And I’ll let ye come back tae the world o men for one day in ivvery syven years!"
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Well now that’s aboot the end o my story. Aifter I've feenished writin this I’ll pit it throwe the letter box o ‘The Journal’.
I thocht I’d tell ye my story seein this is my tenth day back in the world o men. Wee-Ma-Goorie wiz true tae his word and for the past seventy years I’ve learned tae play the fiddle like a maister. I’ve composed an affa lot o crackin tunes in the years for ‘The Gweed Fowk’ but that tunes are nae for the lugs o mortals. But onywye it’s time for me tae wun back tae ‘The Enchanted Rath’ for this day is nearing its eyn. My next day will be July 2024 and I’ll post a fair puckle o tunes that mortals can hear next time. ‘I'm awa for a fine cuppy o tay fae the Gweed Fowk so fairweel for eynoo an lang may yer phiap reek!’

Sanners Gow