…but who am I really?

We are looking forward to the visit of a couple from the Netherlands. We met on holiday and since they had never been in Scotland, we invited them as guests, so that we could show them round our beautiful country. They have been kept up-to -date with our provisional plans, which include a rather important large birthday party.

They should have no problems handling the English/Scots conversations as they have an excellent knowledge of our language, but I think they were concerned about starting and maintaining a conversation with people about whom little was known. So they asked for some photos and a little background about some of the main participants, including both me and the Lady of the House, so that they did not put their foot into it by saying something wrong (would they understand the phrase ‘putting one’s foot in’, I wonder?).

So what to say? I’ts actually quite difficult in just a few words to sum-up someone you know well, into a matter of a few sentences. Facts on age, jobs, interests, familial relationship etc are useful enough for a passport application, but tells you little about the actual person. So to cut a long story short, it took a while to provide half a dozen brief  synopses of the main participants, without giving-away sensitive information, but still allowing an entry into a discussion at the party.

Worst of all is trying to give a brief, unbiased set of facts about oneself…a sort of miniature autobiography, without appearing to be boastful, and ‘padding’ of one’s intersts. For better or worse, the requested information has been sent.

And to get my own back, I have asked them to do the same for us!

I’m still young, honest!

I can’t really believe that our younger child is almost 40. In my mind it seems relatively recently that a fair-haired young lad would join his older sister to affect our lives so much. Both grew up in different ways to be excellent adults of whom any parent would be proud so no problems there.

However, there is a parallel, in that wife and I had a joint 40th when we reached that age, in our house, and we can still remember it well! There are also many photos from that time to remind us how we have changed.

And yet, and yet, I still feel young, even with increasing  bodily decrepitude, at least until I look in the mirror! The other strange thing is that I used to look upon older people as founts of wisdom. I now realise that we may have more information stored than  we had 20  or 30 years ago but we do not always have more wisdom.

We obviously wish him well for the future , and hope that he and his contemporaries have as great a life as  my wife and I have had. The party will hopefully be as good as the one we had. But I think I will resist the temptation to compare the photos with those taken when his Mum and I were his age.!

Choir Membership

Having been involved with choirs of all types since a child, and now retired, we decided that Lady of The House should just join a choir, where I had no responsibilities…..just going for pure enjoyment.

A group called Stepps Songsters appeared in the frame, and after a quick phone-call and a ‘trial’ evening, we both went along. It is great fun, but again points up what I discovered a long time ago…..the disproportionate number of women members attending, compared to men. Often in the proportion of about 8 : 1.

Can anyone explain this….’cos I can’t.

Sleeping in someone else’s bed….

Now that we are retired, we are more able to travel about and catch-up with all the friends and relations we have been neglecting over the years. Many of these are at some distance, and most of those require an overnight stay.

Since many of the friends who fall into this category are of similar ages to ourselves, they also have houses from whence their offspring have flown. This then brings the inevitable…..’You must stay with us, as there’s a free bedroom’.

Kind and well-meant as this is, we generally refuse, and have to explain our reluctance to take up the offer. Unfortunately, having had a bad back for many decades, and unsuccessful intervention by successive physiotherapists, I demand a lot from pillows and mattress for a successful night’s sleep. If this is not forthcoming then I tend to wander off downstairs and sit at the television, tuned to BBC News and promptly fall asleep. You can’t very well do that in the house of even the best-known friend or relation!  The Other Half, on the other hand presents with no such problems and can fall asleep and stay so, for many hours!

Staying in a nice Guest House or B & B allows me the opportunity to move about and even switch on our TV quietly and get some rest. We can also indulge in a long soak or shower without holding up other members of the househol. But probably best of all I can ask for a Full English Breakfast with unlimited toast and coffee.

So if any friends or relations are out there reading this, I hope you will understand.

Concerts

Good Lady and I like going together to classical music concerts, and have done so for many years. We are very lucky that we have the great Royal Scottish National Orchestra available, and  a marvellous Royal Concert Hall to attend. Prices have risen astronomically over the last 20 years, but this is now balanced with the free bus pass, which takes us literally door-to-door. So you see there are advantages in being old, and living in Scotland!

One of the last ones we attended featured the Chopin 2nd Piano Concerto played by the ebulient Argentinian Ingrid Fliter.    www.ingridfliter.com    I love Chopin’s piano music, but not particularly with an orchestra attached to the piano. However it was a wonderful fiery performance by the young lady, and we applauded as enthusiastically as anyone.

But it set me to thinking…..why in this day and age do we spend a lot of money to go out on a miserable evening to attend a venue where we have been many times before, to hear an orchestra we have heard many times, playing pieces we have heard many times, when we could be at home with our hi-fi with a massive choice of CD music at our disposal?

It’s probably a question which has absorbed the brains of many observers of the human mind over many decades. I’m no psychologist so it is unlikely that I have an answer. Is it to relive some previous happy experience of this piece/soloist/orchestra/venue? Is it an attempt to again find some personal solace/excitement in a piece we know well? Is it a ‘communal’ thing where we just love being ‘drawn-into’ an event with other like-minded people? Is it an attempt to keep looking for something new in the interpretation? Is it a continuing admiration in the un-doubted skills and artistry of the orchestral members/soloist/conductor?

Maybe it’s a combination of all of them……I honestly don’t know…..but I have no intention of camping out or tramping through mud to experience anything held at T in the Park!!!…………….what about you?

P.S. ….we have already signed up for the 2012-2013 Concerts!

….pass it on!

I have been recently having fun on Facebook, talking about a mythical character or animal called Herman, whom we have been looking after for the last 10 days for our neighbour’s children. The amount of guessing by respondents has been fantastic, and the secret is now out.!

I have been caring-for and feeding (at no great expense) a sourdough yeast mixture which they handed-in with a sheet of instructions to ensure that the proper attention was provided. This has now been done for the appropriate time, and I am now the proud possessor of a large amount of starter which I will now pass to appropriate folk with the same instructions. I will be left with a small amount, to which I can add many ingredients and bake myself a a cake.

It is a beautiful example of how we can pass around something quite small and insignificant, generate some fun, give away most of the result, and still have something left with which to make something nice for ourselves.

For those who were not reading the FB status or want more details, click on the link below.

http://www.hermanthegermanfriendshipcake.com/

…and all for the price of a pint, each !!!

There are few advantages in getting older, but the occasional financial concession helps, especially if it is not too far from home….. and so it was that when the Lady of the House recently noticed that one such offer was being made across Scotland, it could not be missed!

VisitScotland (the successor to the Scottish Tourist Board)  was encouraging us all to get out and visit our local Countryside Estates to see the snowdrops in bloom. Scotland abounds in such places and one took our fancy. We had passed it numerous times over the years, when we were ‘going somewhere else’, so this was a real opportunity to venture through the gates at long last.

It was only half an hour away by car, so it was a gentle ‘tootle’ south over the Erskine Bridge spanning the River Clyde near Bowling. I’ve always been a bit suspicious about the safety of box-girder bridges, but with it being such a beautiful shape, one falls for it as one does for a well-proportioned lady! There is a good website with photos at www.erskinebridge.co.uk . It was a cloudless blue sky so the views up and down the Clyde were spectacular to say the least.  It was but another 10 mins until we reached our destination near Port Glasgow.

Finlaystone Country Estate (www.finlaystone.co.uk)  has been the home of the Clan Macmillan for some six generations and is still looked after by the current Chief. It has a marvellous setting overlooking the Firth of Clyde. Even although I am proud to belong to another Scottish/Irish Clan (or maybe because of that) I can certainly feel that I am wandering about on someone else’s private grounds, and tend to treat it with respect.

When we arrived late morning, and left the warmth of the car, we were immediately hit by a wintry blast of air and I would have willingly gone straight to the tearoom. However, ‘She Who Must Be Obeyed’ dictated that it was far too early and we should undertake one of the walks first. I should perhaps explain that there was to be a ranger-led Snowdrop Stroll at 2pm and this was only 11.45, so I suppose she was right (but don’t tell her I said that!).

There were no maps of the Estate walks available, and we were simply told that a short walk was available if we followed the red markers, and were shown the general direction of a starting point. We have walked several times in such estates at this time of year, and should really have come two or three months later when there was more foliage and colour. However it was easier to see the successive markers along what turned out to be an already-well-used path. The many feet which had already trodden this route had formed a gooey, slippery path, which had to be treated with caution, especially on the steep slopes. I have no problem with muddy paths in the wintertime as long as I have my sturdy old walking boots on….I suppose it’s equivalent to splashing in puddles with welly-boots on, as a child. Very satisfying squelches could be achieved!

We have had some storms this winter and this was evident in the number of trees lying at crazy angles. Some were precariously prevented from falling with the help of their neighbours.  So our walking and talking went on apace until we came upon an unexpected obstacle….

...a slight hold-up...

….our way was blocked by a victim of the storm. I would have climbed-over, or even through, the foliage….just as I would have done as a boy, but Lady insisted that this was not to be an option for her! In my normal magnanimous way, I succumbed to the gentle statement and found an alternative route, and we proceeded on our way. Perhaps they will remove the tree or maybe just re-route the path! One thing I really liked was how many trees were left to rot away by themselves or grow a coat of beautiful gree moss.

....rest in peace....

It just seems ‘right’ to see what had been a magnificent specimen of a tree, returning to the soil and not being chopped-up for some useless item, which will end-up on a shop shelf.

However, by this time, hunger pangs helped me find a short-cut to the tearoom and home-made soup and a baked potato and salad….well I would need sustenance for when we went on the main walk! But we were still too early for this walk, and we decided on a wander to the Formal Garden.

....waiting for Spring....

This mainly consisted of shrubs cut back to encourage growth and we spent some time guessing the names…..should have had our resident blogging expert, Flighty, to help us! Children had great fun breaking the ice on the fountain, and the cold didn’t seem to bother them. The Kitchen Garden looked sad as if it knew that no-one really was there to see what leeks and brussel sprouts looked like in February! There was also a Smelly Garden, for the visually-impaired, but it was in-explicably closed-off! The Chinese area was based on a small pond and archetypical bridges……

...a couple of bridges...

….but it was from here that you had best views of the Firth of Clyde……

....note the tennis court....

....and the beautifully-trimmed hedges....

……but we still hadn’t seen many snowdrops…..so we continued to the steep slopes and waterfalls where my Lady recorded a bank of our little un-assuming friends hanging their heads in shyness…

...a 'reticence' of snowdrops...

…..with me sneaking off to the top left!

....just a little cluster...

…but for me, they are more attractive in a little bunch, huddling together for company and warmth in the cold, dark days. But the different waterfalls were something to see…some falling into deep gorges, others into a pool, and whilst there was not a lot of water around, they still had sufficient to make them worthy of note with that haze you only get when near them.

....mysterious waterfall...

Well, time was pressing on and we thought we should get back to the meeting place for the formal stroll. In the event we went on it by ourselves, and got back to the tearoom before the group would get there. Even then, all the inside seats were taken, and Cappuchinos and a shared muffin (we’re dieting, you see) taken outside in the cold, made us feel very virtuous!

But were we glad to get back into the relative warmth of the car and return home after a bracing day in the great outdoors….you bet we were!! We had had a great day out, for an entrance fee the same as a pint, (and meals of course) and returned to look out on our little garden, whose problems suddenly paled into insignificance after what we had seen….

…even with all that planning!

Those who know me have made my obsession with planning, a family joke. The minute Lady and I decide on a break, even a long weekend, I open a new file on the computer and begin to build-up a calendar and details of flights, hotels, things to be checked and packed, spare batteries for cameras, diaries, travel insurance, booklets on local places to be seen, neighbours to check out the house, list of items in each case in case one gets lost…etc, etc, etc… A copy (sarcastically called the Schedule) is then made available to Son and/or Daughter.

And so (with everything planned and organised as per the Schedule) it was that four of us recently booked-into Glasgow Airport at the un-Godly hour of 6am. Luggage accepted by the airline within weight limits, and the appropriate boarding passes received, we headed to the comfort food area for a full Scottish breakfast and some banter, in happy anticipation of the forth-coming trip to the sunnier climes of the Canaries.

Adequately sated, all bags and coats were gathered together as we headed towards Security Clearance. This required that we all carry our own hand luggage, passport, and boarding pass, and since I had the assembled paperwork, it was up to me to hand over the passports and passes to each individual. It was only then we discovered, as we stood at the entrance to Security that there were only three passports to identify four individuals! …and guess whose passport was missing!!!!!

….OK folks, everyone check your pockets, handbags, wallets and rucksacks….but no sign! Everyone remained calm and no naughty words were exchanged. I now had to admit that my Schedule had not anything to say on such an eventuality…we were into uncharted waters. Logic was now called-for. If necessary, three could go on holiday and I could investigate the situation and follow as quickly as possible….not much fun for me!

I decided that I would go back over the areas where we had been and ask and hunt about. The restaurant was investigated but looking under the seats only resulted in the recovery of 4op in loose change. Also nothing had been handed in to the staff. Next, there must be an Enquiry Desk where things might have been handed in, but there was no-one about…great!

So back along the long walk to the Check-in Desk in Terminal 2. Long queues had formed, but I simply appealed to their better nature, and went to the front to ask the same lady who had dealt with us….but again drew a blank….Oh dear, the original optimism of an early resolution was fading rapidly!

Walking disconsolately back past a neigbouring check-in desk, my name was called out by the assistant behind the desk. As I moved over to him, he held up a little maroon booklet which looked remarkably like a passport! It was, and it even had details and photograph which identified me as the owner. We were happily re-united and a speedy call to the rest of the party brought blood-pressure levels back to normal.

The rest of the holiday was absolutely perfect, but the next time I’m watching one of those Airline programmes which expose the problems encountered at airports, I’ll be able to empathise with them!

Now what about this next holiday we’re planning?

…at the end of the hearing-aid.

I’ve been involved in the world 0f deaf and hearing-impaired people for over thirty years, much of that time from the managerial and technical side. I have lectured students, instructed, written technical papers, prepared audiology training courses, designed complex sound and inductive loop systems for major buildings, assessed and tested people,  fitted hearing aid systems and provided counselling.

All very worthy, and relatively-easy, as I felt I was in charge. Just over a year ago I was honoured when appointed a Trustee of the Board of Directors of Hearing Concern Link. It is a national charity devoted to helping people to survive socially and psychologically after the onset of hearing loss.

The early Board meetings had been tough with the reduction in Government and Council funding, and most of the talk has been about money (or lack of it!). Although we seem to have turned the corner with the help of some funding from grateful people who had been helped, we cannot rest on any laurels.

The necessity of the work we do was vividly made evident to me at an organised meeting of some of our members one Saturday in Glasgow. This is one of a series of regular courses providing an opportunity for many folk with severe and not-so-severe hearing loss, to get together and learn from a facilitator, and each other. I think it is fair to say that most of us were over 21 by a long way!

Many practical subjects were covered, including personal security, available equipment, frustration and anger. What we didn’t have the time to cover were the effect of losing the ability to appreciate music.

This is a season full of music, so can I ask you think of those who for one reason or another are not able to hear the wonderful music we so love during the Christmas period.

The luck of life

It’s been some time since I have attempted to amuse/entertain/inform/persuade/cajole fellow-bloggers with a posting here. I left you in the middle of Alaska when we were on a marvellous cruise trip from and to Vancouver. It was great and we arrived back home to get on with our semi-retirement, and to sort out the hours of video and hundreds of photos to recount the happy times.

………..and suddenly the BBC brought us news and photos of a liner beached just off Tuscany (a favourite spot of ours) and the loss of life, injury and terror involved. Whatever happened or caused it to happen may eventually be explained but things for those people involved will never be the same again.

How many times have we gone down a road where there had been a recent fatality, got on a plane after one of the same types had just crashed, or feared to get on a Pendolino train knowing what happened recently on the Edinburgh/London express?

I know that statistically travel is safer than it has ever been, and vast numbers of people traverse the roads, sea and sky of this earth of ours in perfect safety, but let us remember in our hearts those who set out on a journey and never arrived.