True Independence…fact or fiction?

At one time, I think politics was simple….or at least simpler than it is now…..

I obviously can’t really comment on the era of the Whigs and the Tories, as they were only presented to me on the shiny pages of my history school books, so I can only relate to the mid-20th, and early 21st Century.

Basically it would start with our parents, and where they felt they were in the pecking-order of life. If you were in the upper echelons of employment or had a ‘profession’, you could be thought of as being ‘Conservative’. This was presumably that you wanted to retain the status quo. If you had dirty fingernails or had a ‘trade’, working for an employer, you believed in the concept of ‘collective negotiation’ to get better working conditions. You might well follow your parents’ choice, and wives might have followed their husbands…but not now methinks!

It was really as simple as that. You voted for the candidate whom you thought would help to fulfil your aspirations….one, or the other.

We were each part of a community, Local Council, United Kingdom, the Commonwealth of Nations, Eventually were added the Western Alliance, NATO, European Union (originally called the Common Market), United Nations, O.P.E.C, and numerous others. The discussions and decisions to join these were mostly taken at Government level, with little or no input from the population at large. The exception which I remember was Ted Heath’s Common Market populist vote, which took us into what is, today, something quite different to what we voted-for.

So we were inextricably joined in a criss-crossing network of nations, striving to reach voluntary compromises,,..not perfect…but which allowed even the smallest of nations to have their say on the world stage.

There were other groupings of course, such as the great Russian empire, which started to crumble, when some of the nations wanted to break-away, with subsequent terrible violence, atrocities, and bloodshed. The opposite also occurred in places like the USA, and Italy which were properly formed as great nations, when all the warring areas handed-over some of their status to a greater centralised power to provide unity. Again, not perfect, but better together.

The decisions made in Great Britain to become part of each of these power-blocs were often passed across party lines, as it was realised the benefits of strength in unity. All the conflicting evidence for and against could be calmly analysed and  assessed by all the experts involved, before a final decision would be taken in Parliament. They were therefore not part of electioneering every four years.

So let us get one thing straight. Almost NO country is ‘independent’. We all rely on other countries for our world-wide defence systems, rescue services, oil, raw materials, trade (both ways), places for holidays, breathing spaces to allow our over-worked environment to recover etc. We are not independent, we are all MORE inter-dependent than we ever have been!

We need to be at peace with our (world-wide) neighbours. If we do not get-along together, we will all fail together!

……..But politics and the Party system are now much more complex. The old walls of Boss v Working Man, have been greatly disfigured if not broken down entirely. The large change in the ethnic demography in these islands over the last 60 years has meant that our representatives in government have more complex problems relating to service provision, and employment prospects for those with language and cultural. differences. Many of our representatives in local, national, and international governance are from parents who were not born within the UK.

This diversity is to be welcomed, (because where would we be without the Indian and Thai curries, the Italian pizzas and pastas, as well as Chinese, Cantonese and Vietnamese food? )  But it does bring the realisation that the’ British Person’, (if ever such an animal existed) and the’ British Nation’, are not as we knew them 50 years ago. We have moved on, but not in an isolationist sense, where it is ‘Us’ against the ‘Rest of the World’.

I would repeat that we  have all become more integrated whether we like it or not. The thought of untangling it all is awesome!

Other parties came into the frame such as Lib Dems, UKIP, Green Party, etc  and all made your one vote much more valuable as you had more options, and with women freed from following what their husbands said, and younger people voting, we now had much more cross-voting. A fluidity of voting patterns, much more difficult to forecast, and pollsters’ projections did not hold the validity they once had…..Some folk changed their allegiance from Local and National elections, and were much happier to vote on the opinion of the candidate on a specific issue instead of the party they represented in general. What a mess…..

For many decades we have had, in the UK, political parties who wished to influence the Government of the day to provide funding and support for the history and culture of their specific nation. I have no problem with this, as this was well within their sphere of expertise and experience. Even without seats in any legislative assembly, they punched well above their weight, in the influence they could bring to bear. The Sinn Fein attempt to break up all of the UK failed, but now perhaps we are seeing a set of (faltering) steps in the path of peace with power-sharing. Plaid Cymru in Wales (left-wing social democratic) is still very much a minority party, but manages to make its point.

In Scotland we have a devolved Parliament in Edinburgh controlled by the SNP, which has had very little experience in real power.  Their sole raison d’etre seems to be Independence, Independence, Independence. They have been given an un-precedented amount of devolved portfolios, and are struggling badly trying to handle them…..and yet they want more. They have a poor grasp of financial, and international affairs (both very necessary in 2015!).  A considerable amount of money has been spent on a ‘Scottish Marketing’ exercise involving Gaelic signs and language education. None of this is remedying the faults in the economy or the financial demands they have made. It appears to be for internal gratification alone, and gaining more votes….but why?

If you want to establish an independent nation (and a majority in 2014 said they did not want independence) you need to build relationships with all of those who pay the piper, and also other countries, and institutions. This they are blatantly failing to do, and by omitting them, they are making it even more difficult for the next administration to recover the lost ground, and bring us out of this quagmire.

Can I come back to my original question…….is true independence possible in the 21st Century? My assertion is that it is NOT possible to be totally independent and dictatorial in this day and age. It is also a universal truth, in business, that you can be promoted, or promote yourself, to your level of incompetence. What we currently have is such a scenario, where continual whining about how little comes from central funding and trying to operate in areas of their non-expertise, whilst ignoring the failings within their own financial capacity to handle, they are building up an enmity which may well take many decades to cure……..

Keep right on to the end of the road…….

I don’t know about you, but I have a fascination with dead-end roads, especially in the countryside. In some ways the sign we use can be a bit disappointing, or even intimidating….’Not worth going down this road’…’There’s nothing to see’…….. ……’Better to turn round while you 7559_signs[1]have the chance’……you know what I mean.

However there usually is something to see…a beach, a loch, a little pier, a house, an old church, and often they have a lovely view. Someone obviously thought that it was worthwhile building and maintaining a road for good reason.

And so it was that yesterday, along with two of the ladies in my life, we set off for one of the loveliest dead-end roads in the west of Scotland. Skirting the historic City of P1010551Stirling, you take the A84 and A873 through Thornhill. There you will find the excellent restaurant ‘The Lion and the Unicorn’ where you could stop for excellent refreshment. Continuing to head west and joining the A81, you pass  (or stop to admire), the only lake in Scotland, the Lake of Menteith. It is tiny, but the village is called  Port of Menteith, and it feels quite proud of its watery neighbour, and the Inchmahome Priory.

Just as you come to Aberfoyle, you enter the Queen Elizabeth Forest Park, and head on the B829, which has the afore-mentioned ‘dead-end’ sign . The B designation is a good indication that this road is not for the faint-hearted driver, as it is single-track with passing places. P1040845But we managed to stop and pick some blackberries on the way, on the side of Loch Ard.

I should say here that it was not me driving, as medical advice was that I should not get behind a wheel for a little time yet. So it was the Lady of the House, who was in control. (She is, of course often in control when I am driving!) Daughter was in the front passenger seat helping with the negotiation of this nasty but lovely road.

Wonderful country houses abound along here with the sweeping drives, and gardens which would have engaged a number of full-time gardeners at one time. Lovely it must be to live in such locations, but what about the winter? 4WD vehicles would be more suitable than a flash car when the snow comes, or trees fall over the roads, or accidents block roads.

When you are able to stop to admire the vistas, Ben Venue, Ben P1040838Vrackie, and Ben Lomond all offer great views, so a camera, and binoculars are advised on this trip.

Water is not normally in short supply here, and so several lochs have been dammed and channelled to provide water for Glasgow and the Central Belt of Scotland. Besides Loch Ard, where got the berries, Loch Chon also is beside the road, and both offer boat fishing. The water here and ultimately fed to Glasgow is very pure and no lime-scale is produced in kettles or washing machines…….and it is lovely to drink, especially in a glass of amber liquid!

As we move northwest, we are travelling between two large lochs….Katrine (Glasgow’s main water supply) and Lomond (known the world over for the Bonnie banks). At a T junction you can turn right to Stronachlachar (an awkward-sounding word for non-Scots), with a Pier-head Tearoom.

P1040851However we were turning westward past the lovely Loch Arklet heading to the village, or more-correctly, the clachan of Inversnaid.

This is probably the most awkward part of the road as it drops sharply to the northern tip of Loch Lomond, and indeed the Banks are Bonnie as promised in the song. Suddenly, from a narrow country road we descend into a large car park, beside the massive Inversnaid Hotel, and situated beside the pier for boats cruising Loch Lomond.

So, you may ask, why has this large Hotel beenOld Photograph Inversnaid Scotland[1] built here in a remote area, and is obviously popular, with high-occupancy rates? The old photo shows how long it has been operational.

It was built in 1790 by the Duke of Montrose as a quiet hunting lodge. It achieved exposure to the world, when Queen Victoria visited there several times, for privacy. Whether the impropriety involved with John Brown, her ghillie, occurred here I do not know. It has obviously been extended over the years.

We had a very tasty meal in the hotel, chosing the Inversnaid Burger, which consisted of P1040865chicken, bacon and cheese. Afterwards, we went to examine the waterfall just beside the hotel. There has been no appreciable rain recently, so no  great torrent of water, which was a bit disappointing. There are lots of little walks in the area, which we could not explore due to time restraints.

The pier is a place of constant activity during the day, and P1040858no doubt, there is a fair bit of freight brought in by boat. Looking across the Loch, you can see the village of Inveruglas, and the large pipes of the Loch Sloy Hydro-electric Power Station on the hillside. They have a Visitor Centre about the area, so is well-worth visiting.

Two other facts about the area…….

Firstly……The local primary school was, in 2010, the most expensive/pupil in education costs, in the UK. It is said it was £54,000 per pupil! Presumably some may have been accommodation costs for those who could not commute each day, in the scattered community.

Secondly……The famous Rob Roy was basically an outlaw involved in castle-rustling, and in the Jacobite rising. He hid in a cave, close to the Hotel, and which can be only approached by water, and was well-hidden. No doubt the locationis pointed-out to all those on the cruise boats.

……so there you are, a true end-of-the-road journey, which provided on a very-pleasant autumnal day, a lot of visual excitement with the gorgeous scenery,  a trip on narrow roads, a pleasant meal, and plenty of blethering!…….

And the day was complete on our way home, as we popped-into a tearoom in Aberfoyle………pleasure complete……


Colzium etc….some photos….

Just a few random shots from the ‘Non-Driving Day Out’ Blog….sorry about the contrast in some of the shots….very-intense, rather-low sun to blame….Click on the link below to see some more of our lovely scenery…..You Lucky People!

Light and dark in the overgrown paths

Light and dark in the overgrown paths

Lots of cones about

Lots of cones about

A particularly-large cone

A particularly-large cone

Colour disappearing from the leaves....

Colour disappearing from the leaves….

Almost transparent....

Almost transparent….

Looking like an up-turned boat.....

Looking like an up-turned boat…..

Just imaging having to trim these trees!

Just imaging having to trim these trees!



Friendly dog with four tennis balls

Friendly dog with four tennis balls

The burn...

The burn…

Could not resist the colour of the water...

Could not resist the colour of the water…

Ripening for winter.....

Ripening for winter…..

A shady nook....

A shady nook….

Proudly standing....

Proudly standing….

Sun changed within a minute.....

Sun changed within a minute…..

Feeling rather uncomfortable.....

Feeling rather uncomfortable…..

Still uncomfortable!......

Still uncomfortable!……

Good lady beside our Quite-Quirky Juke.....

Good lady beside our Quite-Quirky Juke…..

From the summit of the Tak-Ma-Doon the heat-haze

From the summit of the Tak-Ma-Doon Road…in the heat-haze

A non-driving day out…….

I’m a guy………so I love driving. I always have, (since first driving a tractor on a farm at 11!), I go to the driver’s door automatically when we go out, and the seat and reversing mirrors are set for me.

However, I am somewhat hors de combat just now, with non-driving the medical order of the day for at least two or three weeks. Meanwhile I have plenty of good neighbours, family drivers, and a bus stop only 200 yards away….but it’s just not the same!

I like using the skill required to negotiate our quirky Nissan Juke through traffic, over the bumpy tracks (sometimes called roads) and the notorious bends in the nearby Campsie Fells. But this has had to be delayed.

So what to do on a lovely sunny afternoon yesterday?……..

Well, how about a trip to Colzium Park, in Kilsyth, and the Lady of the House would drive. In a magnificent setting, with a house by the Lennox’s (who created the town of Lennoxtown, surprisingly), it was a place we would take the children when small, (nearly 40 years ago!) to feed the ducks, kick a ball, and have adventures in the extensive woodlands. There were still dog-walkers, a man in his motorised scooter, people with grandchildren, stones being thrown into the pond, shrieks from children as swans flapped their wings….nothing every changes. A brief chat with each renewed our social-interaction. Now, less-used, it is somewhat dilapidated, but still handy for an hour’s entertainment in the fresh-air. A carton of juice, and a lovely biscuit beside the car, allowed us to proceed on the next bit of the journey.

There is a wonderfully-named road close by called the Tak-ma-doon Road. It is not an easy road to drive at the best of times and by the most-experienced of drivers, due to the bends, sudden gradient changes, single-track sections etc, but as I said, this is something I enjoy. Good Lady, less so! The way from the Park to this road is at a very nasty , badly-sighted T-junction, where clutch control, handbrake, eyes, and accelerator need to be all fully-functioning. She handled this with aplomb, and we proceeded as planned, upwards and onwards towards Carronbridge.

There is a viewpoint at the highest point, where we stopped to get some photos. A car (which had allowed us to pass them earlier) pulled-in behind us, and I thanked them for their kind deed. We chatted and they were from Alberta in Canada, so we had a good blether about a visit we had made to Canada, and also about a pending one next year. Lovely people!

On past the beautiful Carron Valley Reservoir, with relatively quiet traffic to the delightful Fintry. The Crow Road which is better than the Tak-ma-Doon Road but must still be handled with care, then took her attention, and we returned safely, to the bosom of our house after a simple drive out.

It would not have been possible without the courage, and skill of my Good Lady, so a public THANK YOU VERY MUCH, is very much in order.

A Scottish Political Mystery

There is an element of ‘Follow-My-Leader, right or wrong’ in one area of Scottish politics, just now, which begs understanding. Attempts by the national and international Press and experienced commentators to explain what is happening have failed miserably, never mind indicate to the electorate, as to how it could be influenced.

The dramatic rise, and rise, of a Nationalistic Party in Scotland, must be viewed in the light of its inordinate failure to provide any evidence of competence, or co-operation with other countries (except those which have patriotism, nationalism, paternalism, centralisation as their main aim), or belief in discussion within the Party, or regard for other politicians who have a manifestly greater experience in real-politic, or a viable international policy, or a respect for the value of hard-earned tax-revenues, and a life where ‘self-doubt’ is obviously a phrase which does not belong in their vocabulary.

To many of us, the last few years have brought gasps of dis-belief in how such a small coterie of people could change, for the worse, a nation whose intellect, art and culture, energy and hard-work ethic, self-sufficiency, ability to settle all over the world, able to negotiate and get-on with people of every class and background made us the envy of the world. And what do we see now? The English-hatred from the SNP which has been stirred-up is un-believable, the inward-looking attitude (manifested in the £26M spent on road-signage in Gaelic), the nepotism which favours relatives and friends over knowledgeable advisers, the misuse of funds to dubious groups, with no Second Chamber to call them to account, the belief that Scotland could defend itself un-aided, in a time of international crisis, and the total absence of forward-looking practical policies except the concept of INDEPENDENCE… Now there’s a word to conjure with in an increasingly-close-linked world!

Scotland voted by a substantial majority in 2014 that they wanted to remain within a 300-year old alignment with England, Wales and N. Ireland. That should have been enough, but Edinburgh didn’t listen and still carry-on this demand for an elusive Utopia. For some reason, they are able to convince a sufficiently-large number of crosses on ballot papers that this is how Scotland should be going, with no road-map, or indication what would be at the destination.

So why or how has this come to be. We have the right to vote but is this right always properly used? The right to universal suffrage was hard-won, and especially for women. With the value of hindsight, I think we can all agree that it was right and proper, because of the tenet that there should be ‘no taxation without representation’.

There are, however, two other points of thought which I believe are necessary, if we are to hold together our theory of democracy……

  • if you have the Right to vote, something comes with it called Responsibility. You have to use all of heart, head, emotions and pragmatism in thinking of how you use that vote. At one time, we would have voted how our parents voted, or how our friends, workmates, or business colleagues voted. This provided a stable, slowly-evolving, political landscape against which the various parties could display their beliefs and aspirations. It would not have been easy for us as a voter to move out of the mind-set of our environment and circle, or convince them they were wrong without animosity. Now-a-days, we see violence on our streets and in the media against those who would dare to stand against our Scottish masters…very dangerous for democracy. But it is now more imperative than ever to THINK, THINK, and THINK again about how our vote is to be used. We must read, listen, and look at as many aspects as possible about the possible result of the appointment of our parliamentarians on the way of life of our nation.
  • secondly, our elected members must realise firstly that they are the Servants of the people…it is the voters who put them in there and the voters who will eject them. They must learn to listen (which few do), and act on what they hear from all the electorate. And lastly they must accept that taxes and other incomes do not belong to them. They come from the people, belong to the people, and must be spent for the betterment of the people.

Perhaps out of all this latest disruptive nonsense will come a stronger, and more-wisely-thinking electorate and government in the northern half of the UK…..but I have yet to be convinced……

Feeling a little guilty….

I got a little note from WordPress today to say that I have been with them some eight years.

It encouraged me to look over a number of the early ones, and the replies they received. Some of my contacts from those days are still in touch through Facebook and Twitter, whilst others do not seem to be about.

It was then that I felt guilty about what had happened over those years. Early on I was contributing at least one decently-long ‘_thinking’ blog per day. Then when Facebook came along, it was easier to write a few sentences, and my blogging declined till I was doing about one or two a month.

My introduction to Twitter was quite a bit behind the rest of the population,  but I noticed that many of my politically-aware friends were using it in a fast-moving situation, and with the limitations imposed, it was not designed for history. So I adopted it, which meant that blogging and even Facebook contributions decreased even further.

So, sorry, WordPress, I regret not contributing so much recently, I hope to renew the acquaintance of my some of my old friends.

To my FB or Tweeting friends, can I recommend that you try blogging; it really is worth the effort!

It was actually quite a good day……

I can’t say that I often think of a day of medical intervention on one’s body as normally a cause for celebration, of hilarity, or even pleasure.

A nagging pain, and the insistence of  ‘Lady of the House’ meant a visit to my GP some time ago. A subsequent uncomfortable, and personal, examination at Stobhill Hospital, near Glasgow, discovered no under-lying life-threatening situation…. so relief was unbounded. However…… the pain was still around, and a visit to another practice GP showed that there were now TWO seats of pain to be investigated…..ugh!  An appointment with a surgeon decided that knife-cutting was to be the answer.

We had a family cruise organised and knew that it was unlikely that a surgical team would meet us in Santorini, or Dubrovnik, to perform an operation, due to sensible, not-unexpected, budgetary constraints within the NHS. However the waiting list involved (which was within the guidelines) meant that no such options/decisions had to be made!

I slept better the night before the op than usual, and the alarm gently woke me. Daughter and wife saw me safely into the arms of the Receptionist, medics, and nursing staff, and I was swiftly re-clothed in the double front/back- tied surgical clothing. Strangely, it was printed all over with…. ‘Only to be Worn by Hospital Patients’……as if any non-hospital-patient person would be seen dead in it!

Then the re-questioning began…….again and again. Every member of staff who came near had to ensure themselves that I was who I was. Maybe a label attached to me like Paddington Bear, with all the details, might be more sensible…or is that what they do in a morgue?

The amount of technical information pumped-into ones brain, by the surgeon, anaesthetists (yes, I had two!), and ward staff, before the procedure, is astonishing… if one were able to retain it, and if necessary act on it under anaesthetic! On the trolley, going to the theatre, the chat is pretty trivial, enlivened only by me seeing a trolley coming the other way, and it looked as if we were in a race for the same theatre!

For me, the worst part of surgery is the holes they make in you, for blood samples, plasma drips, different anaesthetics, and nerve blocks in various parts of the anatomy….It’s a bit like the Tony Hancock comedy ‘The Blood Donor’ (You-Tube it). They can be painful, and you might well wish to call the whole thing off, before they get the real cutting implements out. But by then the numbing chemicals have taken effect, and no amount of complaining will come from your mouth!

Surgery started at about 9.15, and I wakened in the recovery room just after 11. Professional but very kindly faces asked on a regular basis, how I felt. This I was to indicate, on an index of pain. Since presumably everyone has a different threshold, it has little absolute meaning, but comparatively it gives an indication of improvement level. I like to work on the basis of ‘How would I accept having this for the rest of my life’, and it seems to work for me.  I have to admit that I was not a happy bunny for some little time, (after all, they had worked on two parts of my anatomy!) and pain-relief protocols were discussed and applied. This all happened within a framework of daft jokes, laughter, and good-hearted banter. The anaesthetists came to see me and gave their professional advice.

I then had the cheek to ask if I could get up to go to the loo, (‘Permission refused, Mr Monroe, as protocol does not allow it just yet!’). A bladder scan suggested to them that it would not be necessary. Gentle persuasion and discussion of the consequences, allowed a compromise, and my bladder proved it WAS necessary…technology isn’t always right!

Alternating episodes of inactivity, brief walks, and coffee, hot choc, and numerous biscuits passed the afternoon with everyone in a jovial frame of mind (it was Friday afternoon after all!)  Lady, and my Daughter arrived to take me home and I was discharged at 4pm. On return home, they indulged in a chilli con carni, whilst I made do with a bowl of cereal, apple pie and custard.

…………..and thanks to a lot of people, it had been a good day!