And at 9.30pm tomorrow night's Tattoo was cancelled. I appreciate they wanted to hold off cancelling for as long as possible, but 24 hours notice would have been nice.
Probably a sensible decision to cancel. I see LNER aren't running trains north of Newcastle tomorrow.
Save travels to anyone in Scotland out and about tomorrow.
The strange thing is how still it is - just the faintest tremble of leaves. Dull and damp, but not actually raining - but according to the forecast due to cut loose in about an hour or so.
I even dreamed about it last night - that I went out to gather apples that would otherwise be windfalls. The garden had of course morphed into a vast autumnal forest and I couldn't reach them.
It is sensible to cancel the Tattoo, but it was cancelled too late for us to cancel tomorrow night's hotel booking and get a refund, so we are out of pocket for that.
(We are not going to travel into Edinburgh in a storm just to use our hotel booking!)
We have rebooked the Tattoo, but we couldn't just transfer to another night, we've had to pay for the second lot of tickets, and in ten days time (possibly longer) we'll get the refund for the cancelled show.
Rain has arrived here. Earlier I got the washing dried in record time, though using more clothes pegs than usual! Watching the shed roof as it lifts and settles, lifts and settles.
And the roof is off. Have just picked its fragments out of the flower bed, and popped two filled pots of flowers under the deck for shelter. We had a brief power cut earlier but it’s back on at least for now….
The main inconvenience is that, in the course of 35 years we've never quite got round to proper catches on the doors, so they spring open when it's windy, and have to be wedged shut with heavy bagfuls of CDs.
It was raining quite heavily when I got up, and a wee bit blustrous, but the rain had eased off by the time I was going to work.
I happened to look out around lunchtime (I'd brought lunch with me, on the assumption that I wouldn't want to go out), and there was heavy, almost horizontal rain. Apart from hearing the odd rumble of a wheelie-bin blowing over in the yard behind my office, it didn't seem too bad, and by the time I was coming home it was still blowing all the dust of the day into my eyes, but the sun was splitting the trees.
However, because I'm a brainless piglet, I forgot to close over the kitchen window (it's the type that's fixed at the top and swings open horizontally, and was "open", but resting against the frame), and when I got home, it was fixed partially open, and something in the structure/fixings seems to have jammed or bent and now it won't close.
Mr Cats, with a “storm, what storm?” attitude set off this morning driving to the better bus route, to go and visit an organ in the wilds of Aberdeenshire. (Nothing will keep Mr Cats from an organ in need…). He now cannot get home, as the busses are off due to fallen trees on the roads. So he is spending the night with the son and daughter-in-law in Aberdeen…. So glad I resisted his urging to accompany him on his trip.
Still pretty breezy here. Noticed some tree damage - we're a Leafy Suburb - notably one where a major branch had broken, thereby splitting the tree in two.
Howsoever, made it to the bank to pay in Premium Bond prize and was pleasantly surprised to find there were two - 50 and 100. I then went to Waterstones and spent the balance of a gift card the brothers sent me for my 70th - another 50 odd. That still leaves me with the one for my 75th (we are not an imaginative family gift wise).
Quiet afternoon recovering. Thai fish curry this evening.
We're driving from the East Riding up to Penrith tomorrow, then on to Oban via Glasgow on Tuesday. The weather may prove interesting at various points of the journey.
Safely to Oban, a bit blustery and the odd heavy shower on the way up but nothing concerning.
In England, Cheltenham is often seen as a place populated by retired civil servants and former foreign office staff. Is there a Scottish counterpart to this?
In England, Cheltenham is often seen as a place populated by retired civil servants and former foreign office staff. Is there a Scottish counterpart to this?
The Scottish Borders (Peebles area) was a bit like this when I lived in it - also notable for having the only Conservative MP in Scotland for quite a while.
That's a very unfair poem, although I suspect that to the writer, who was stationed there during the war, it probably seemed like the arse-end of beyond.
Now, how to circulate that to potential cruise line passengers to put them off invading Kirkwall? At least the Vikings brought some culture with them, even if the plundering and pillaging was a bit of a nuisance at times.
Ah, @Piglet, I came across this poem (speakers on) this morning.
I've seen that poem with various locations, Halkirk for one, and with "fucking" replacing "bloody". I suspect it did the rounds among servicemen posted to assorted far-flung outposts.
We went to the Tattoo last night and it was FANTASTIC! Dinner at the Cannonball, then the Tattoo. The Cannonball was very cosy and warm, so I regretted wearing a semmit in preparation for sitting through the outdoor Tattoo.
I'm still a bit cross about last week's Storm Floris cancellation. The rebooking process involved buying a second set of tickets, and then waiting for the first lot to be refunded, which ought to be soon, but no guarantee as to when the refunds will be processed. We were in a queue to rebook, and once we got through (fairly quickly) the website said that if we hadn't completed the rebooking within 20 minutes, we'd be returned to the queue. So it all felt stressful and annoying. We had to rebook IMMEDIATELY! But they can take their sweet time over refunding the Aug 4th tickets. They said most refunds ought to be processed within ten days, but might take longer.
BUT the Tattoo itself was brilliant. It wasn't something we'd have gone to if our Australian visitors hadn't been keen, but I loved it. No-one put a foot wrong, and it was varied, colourful, and impressive.
I see that Wetherspoons (at least those in the lands of barbarians south of the wall built to keep them out) have stopped taking proper bank notes, and only accepting those dodgy English ones. But, as I don't go into such seedy establishments it won't be bothering me.
I only go into Wetherspoons after Scottish Voices gigs; one of the basses seems to think they're the epitome of drinking establishments*, and unfortunately he tends to be the one to organise where we go after Evensong ... 🙃
* this may be fiscally driven; although he's not badly off, he does seem to be fond of a bargain!
We've been in Glasgow this weekend. On the way south we stopped in Dundee for lunch and to visit the Palestinian Threads exhibition in the V&A. It's very good. It's on till Spring 2026 and we think we'll go again.
On the way back up we decided to break the journey by visiting a place whose name has always intrigued us - Findo Gask. We couldn't find it! We found Gask parish church, Gask Community Hall, and a road sign saying "Findo Gask 1 mile" but we couldn't find anything that resembled a village. We had thought we'd walk along the Roman road to one of the signposted sites of long-gone Roman stuff, but it was raining heavily, so we didn't.
My mother was fascinated by anything to do with the Romans in the North East - does Findo Gask count as NE? - and I remember her talking about it. I don't know if she ever got there, however. Auntie Google has a few useful bits of information about the place.
It's just south of Perth. We're planning to revisit at some point when it isn't raining although as far as I know, the Roman sites have information boards, but no actual remains. Still, the walk along the Roman road route looks scenic.
I was under the impression Findo Gask was a village, but we couldn't find a village. There was a church, surrounded by fields, a community hall, ditto, several scattered houses, and a letterbox near the community hall, but if there's a village, we didn't find it. I admit, I had fond hopes of a tea-room.
Wikipedia describes it as a "small village" but illustrates it with a photo of the river Earn - not a house in sight.
GoogleEarth shows a church, probably a farm behind that, the community hall and maybe 4 houses (one of which is "The Old Schoolhouse", and three are large new builds).
Sounds like some of the places on the A68. Were it not for the sign and the speed restriction you wouldn't necessarily think the roadside straggle or a few scattered dwellings was a village.
Google Streetview agrees, there is no signpost showing a change in speed limit. Not even coming off the A9 at Dalreoch much less after coming off the Roman Road.
A diversion in another discussion mentioned the soft 'z' in some Scottish names, like Menzies and Dalziel. Most people know Culzean Castle, and we lived for a short time near a spot called Colzium in the Pentlands. Are there others, and does it only occur in Scotland? (There's another Colzium near Kilsyth, but I don't know how they pronounce it there).
Generally, or so I've been told, it's from the Scots language which used the letter yogh. This became confused with 'z', especially with the onset of moveable type when printers may not have had a yogh available.
There is the village of Finzean (Fingan) in Aberdeenshire.
I didn't know that, though we must have driven close by, many times. But how is it pronounced? Is it Fing-an? My first guess would have been far off! (Favourite place for lunch in that general direction is the Clatterin' Brig, followed by a drive over the Cairn o' Mount).
I visited Migvie Church today. It is quite remarkable. It's a small deconsecrated church in the middle of nowhere. It doesn't look like anything special from outside.
Inside, it has been stripped right back. There are three modern stained glass windows, and on the walls are verses from scripture, prayers and pictures. Google images of "Migvie Church" will give you an idea, but cannot capture the atmosphere. It would be possible to sit on one of the four carved stone seats and meditate on one of the verses in perfect tranquility.
Comments
Save travels to anyone in Scotland out and about tomorrow.
Might make for an interesting amble to work!
I even dreamed about it last night - that I went out to gather apples that would otherwise be windfalls. The garden had of course morphed into a vast autumnal forest and I couldn't reach them.
We have rebooked the Tattoo, but we couldn't just transfer to another night, we've had to pay for the second lot of tickets, and in ten days time (possibly longer) we'll get the refund for the cancelled show.
Bummer about the Tattoo. I expect the tent and hoarding village in George Sq/Potterow plus other temporary Fringe constructions will be affected too.
The main inconvenience is that, in the course of 35 years we've never quite got round to proper catches on the doors, so they spring open when it's windy, and have to be wedged shut with heavy bagfuls of CDs.
I happened to look out around lunchtime (I'd brought lunch with me, on the assumption that I wouldn't want to go out), and there was heavy, almost horizontal rain. Apart from hearing the odd rumble of a wheelie-bin blowing over in the yard behind my office, it didn't seem too bad, and by the time I was coming home it was still blowing all the dust of the day into my eyes, but the sun was splitting the trees.
However, because I'm a brainless piglet, I forgot to close over the kitchen window (it's the type that's fixed at the top and swings open horizontally, and was "open", but resting against the frame), and when I got home, it was fixed partially open, and something in the structure/fixings seems to have jammed or bent and now it won't close.
Time to find a glazier ...
Howsoever, made it to the bank to pay in Premium Bond prize and was pleasantly surprised to find there were two - 50 and 100. I then went to Waterstones and spent the balance of a gift card the brothers sent me for my 70th - another 50 odd. That still leaves me with the one for my 75th (we are not an imaginative family gift wise).
Quiet afternoon recovering. Thai fish curry this evening.
Safely to Oban, a bit blustery and the odd heavy shower on the way up but nothing concerning.
The Scottish Borders (Peebles area) was a bit like this when I lived in it - also notable for having the only Conservative MP in Scotland for quite a while.
We know better though, don't we, children?
No it doesn't - it says "Ingibjorg is the most beautiful girl in the north"!
Name-drop moment: one of the members of Three Peace Sweet was in my class at school.
I've seen that poem with various locations, Halkirk for one, and with "fucking" replacing "bloody". I suspect it did the rounds among servicemen posted to assorted far-flung outposts.
I'm still a bit cross about last week's Storm Floris cancellation. The rebooking process involved buying a second set of tickets, and then waiting for the first lot to be refunded, which ought to be soon, but no guarantee as to when the refunds will be processed. We were in a queue to rebook, and once we got through (fairly quickly) the website said that if we hadn't completed the rebooking within 20 minutes, we'd be returned to the queue. So it all felt stressful and annoying. We had to rebook IMMEDIATELY! But they can take their sweet time over refunding the Aug 4th tickets. They said most refunds ought to be processed within ten days, but might take longer.
BUT the Tattoo itself was brilliant. It wasn't something we'd have gone to if our Australian visitors hadn't been keen, but I loved it. No-one put a foot wrong, and it was varied, colourful, and impressive.
I only go into Wetherspoons after Scottish Voices gigs; one of the basses seems to think they're the epitome of drinking establishments*, and unfortunately he tends to be the one to organise where we go after Evensong ... 🙃
* this may be fiscally driven; although he's not badly off, he does seem to be fond of a bargain!
On the way back up we decided to break the journey by visiting a place whose name has always intrigued us - Findo Gask. We couldn't find it! We found Gask parish church, Gask Community Hall, and a road sign saying "Findo Gask 1 mile" but we couldn't find anything that resembled a village. We had thought we'd walk along the Roman road to one of the signposted sites of long-gone Roman stuff, but it was raining heavily, so we didn't.
Has anyone been to Findo Gask? What did we miss?
I was under the impression Findo Gask was a village, but we couldn't find a village. There was a church, surrounded by fields, a community hall, ditto, several scattered houses, and a letterbox near the community hall, but if there's a village, we didn't find it. I admit, I had fond hopes of a tea-room.
Wikipedia describes it as a "small village" but illustrates it with a photo of the river Earn - not a house in sight.
I didn't know that, though we must have driven close by, many times. But how is it pronounced? Is it Fing-an? My first guess would have been far off! (Favourite place for lunch in that general direction is the Clatterin' Brig, followed by a drive over the Cairn o' Mount).
That's where the discussion about the "z" started - in the General Goodbyes thread.
Inside, it has been stripped right back. There are three modern stained glass windows, and on the walls are verses from scripture, prayers and pictures. Google images of "Migvie Church" will give you an idea, but cannot capture the atmosphere. It would be possible to sit on one of the four carved stone seats and meditate on one of the verses in perfect tranquility.
I looked at the photos - an impressively simple interior, as @North East Quine says.