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As the Scottish rugby team’s day of reckoning arrived, my thoughts turned to our nation’s sporting anthem, Flower of Scotland. I decided I would write a replacement. As you can hear, things went somewhat awry… I heard Roy Williamson’s masterpiece – and it is – for the first time in 1974, at the Corries gig…
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In my Pentecostal days I was a connoisseur of tongues The muttering and spluttering Whispered hissing Glutinous rolling And harsh declamations Baptised, I thought In the Holy Spirit After much experimental mumbling I prayed for Gaelic But all that came was something Vaguely Italian Until I realised it was that bit on Abbey Road Where…
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Edinburgh sober Was never an option Up an eternity of steps Jinglin’ Geordies, Halfway House Evening News or Scotsman That Gormenghast of stone and paper Tottering on the rumbling presses Typewriter graveyards The rotting files of memory Deadlined and alone of an afternoon Always he would call me Sidney James Van Rijn Tiny and ruthless…
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Njuggle It’s up to you, said the horse Hoarsely You can stop me anytime you want Just dig in your heels And say the magic word You know the magic word Don’t you? Unity on Mull, 1941 I remember There was no look in her eye But how she danced Quicksteps, a Highland Schottische But…
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The holiday cottage we rent out is the oldest habitable house in Shetland and the most radioactive (radon gas from the granite it huddles in) but at least the rats can’t handle the bequerels. Ovo Energy want to install a ‘smart’ electricity meter “between 12 and 4” so I’m there with Hugo the Italian Bloodhound,…
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At last, a break in the weather. 10 days of gales, fierce before that, more grim stuff to come. But a lovely calm, cold morning and consequently a peaceful dog who just wants to sniff along the Urafirth beach. I call them Loki’s Candles, one of the traditional Shetland names, but they’re also known as…
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It’s Up Helly Aa Day in Lerwick, and I’m girding my loins, so to speak, for talking the watching world through the procession and galley burning online. The livestream will go ahead, no matter how bad the meteorology gets, and it WILL be bad. We may not be able to cover the Junior Up Helly…
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New York, Newark, Nuuk: we’re off to GreenlandPack some semi automatic gunsWe hunted Polar Bears out in NewfoundlandBut Jared’s shot all the Canadian onesWe’ll spend like dollar vikings, with no exchange rateNow Greenland is the 52nd stateOr if you need to get some summer sunRelax by the Mediterranean SeaThose Europeans are no funI can’t understand…
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It is a beautiful, still winter’s day here on Shetland’s sea-ground. Atween wadders, between weathers, as the saying goes, because we’re not heading into spring yet and there’s bad Scandinavian stuff huffing and puffing in the predictions. The brutal blizzards of a fortnight past gave way to deluges and flooding, then the kind of unremitting…
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And so to Greenland my fellow Americans Were going in to save the penguins Don’t tell me there are no penguins there I’ve seen them flying through the air With their rainbow beaks and their stubby wings They’re really very beautiful things Like me though obviously I’m taller And I can’t fly as my hands…
