Carradale

[Annie]

I had completely forgotten about that old story, thanks for the post Bochan!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Bochan Mor]

Aye 'Orphan Annie', it wasn't yesterday that the Norsks came knocking on the doors of our forefathers. What a day it's been here ma lassie. I heard the gulls screchling this morning and looked out to see a tractor ploughing one of the Baker's fields. My first thought was: 'Morenish', then I realised that the forward motion of the tractor was distinguishable to the naked eye, and that the reek was of diesel smoke, not chip fat. Also, the temperature wasn't anywhere near 17 degrees Centigrade, the minimum acceptable to our working class hero. However, by the late afternoon, the temperature had climbed to the giddy height of 22 degrees C, warm enough to draw our intrepid ploughman away from the radiant heat of his jumbo log burner. For the first time this year, Morenish was letting some heat into his house. There's no probelm wae greenhouse gasses in thon house, as its haematically sealed, ensuring none of the heat is lost inadvertantly.

The change when it came was so dramatic, that you could just tell that we were going to be bombarded by a right plaster of thunder and lightning (And I don't mean JD and his former crewmate on the wee 'Nymph'.

Sure enough, the weather front arrived wae a fearful bang and a damn good blast of cyclonic wind at the leading edge. It's maybe no finished wae us yet, so I'd better go and check Morenish's shed, and see that Sanyanya has a warm blanket and something soothing for his blinkered horse.... His dogs can fend for themselves, but pity help them if they stray amongst Morenish's pet lambs!

[Annie]

Hoot the hell is Sanyana dain in Morenish's shed anyhow? Geesh! Gi the man a blanket before he sets himsel alight will ya!

Ach, I love it when the weather changes masel'! Get up and get oot early and then go for a good sleep while the storm bangs off each side of the loch and back again! As fer the schrechling gulls, ye can aye tell when there's a storm fer they a gather on the green in great big flocks and screchle away tae their hearts content!

I guess the lambing season is over noo, eh? Morenish will gee Sanyana a wil' beltin' if he catches wan on he's strays roon his lambs, right enough! Best go on patrol Bochan and see if he can keep the peace roon there!

[jdcarra]

Aye 'Orphan Annie', it wasn't yesterday that the Norsks came knocking on the doors of our forefathers. What a day it's been here ma lassie. I heard the gulls screchling this morning and looked out to see a tractor ploughing one of the Baker's fields. My first thought was: 'Morenish', then I realised that the forward motion of the tractor was distinguishable to the naked eye, and that the reek was of diesel smoke, not chip fat. Also, the temperature wasn't anywhere near 17 degrees Centigrade, the minimum acceptable to our working class hero. However, by the late afternoon, the temperature had climbed to the giddy height of 22 degrees C, warm enough to draw our intrepid ploughman away from the radiant heat of his jumbo log burner. For the first time this year, Morenish was letting some heat into his house. There's no probelm wae greenhouse gasses in thon house, as its haematically sealed, ensuring none of the heat is lost inadvertantly.

The change when it came was so dramatic, that you could just tell that we were going to be bombarded by a right plaster of thunder and lightning (And I don't mean JD and his former crewmate on the wee 'Nymph'.

Sure enough, the weather front arrived wae a fearful bang and a damn good blast of cyclonic wind at the leading edge. It's maybe no finished wae us yet, so I'd better go and check Morenish's shed, and see that Sanyanya has a warm blanket and something soothing for his blinkered horse.... His dogs can fend for themselves, but pity help them if they stray amongst Morenish's pet lambs!

Ach Bochan

You have stirred up the auld times aboard the Sea Nymph wae wee Colin (culugae) which ah dinnae think a have spelt right, but a canna mind who ya are meaning as ma former crewmate aboard the Nymph as ther was one or two. Could it be a Ramsey or a Shaw or who? Its a lang time ago and once ye are past the half century the memory gets a wee bity poor.

[Bochan Mor]

Aye 'Orphan Annie', it wasn't yesterday that the Norsks came knocking on the doors of our forefathers. What a day it's been here ma lassie. I heard the gulls screchling this morning and looked out to see a tractor ploughing one of the Baker's fields. My first thought was: 'Morenish', then I realised that the forward motion of the tractor was distinguishable to the naked eye, and that the reek was of diesel smoke, not chip fat. Also, the temperature wasn't anywhere near 17 degrees Centigrade, the minimum acceptable to our working class hero. However, by the late afternoon, the temperature had climbed to the giddy height of 22 degrees C, warm enough to draw our intrepid ploughman away from the radiant heat of his jumbo log burner. For the first time this year, Morenish was letting some heat into his house. There's no probelm wae greenhouse gasses in thon house, as its haematically sealed, ensuring none of the heat is lost inadvertantly.

The change when it came was so dramatic, that you could just tell that we were going to be bombarded by a right plaster of thunder and lightning (And I don't mean JD and his former crewmate on the wee 'Nymph'.

Sure enough, the weather front arrived wae a fearful bang and a damn good blast of cyclonic wind at the leading edge. It's maybe no finished wae us yet, so I'd better go and check Morenish's shed, and see that Sanyanya has a warm blanket and something soothing for his blinkered horse.... His dogs can fend for themselves, but pity help them if they stray amongst Morenish's pet lambs!

Ach Bochan

You have stirred up the auld times aboard the Sea Nymph wae wee Colin (culugae) which ah dinnae think a have spelt right, but a canna mind who ya are meaning as ma former crewmate aboard the Nymph as ther was one or two. Could it be a Ramsey or a Shaw or who? Its a lang time ago and once ye are past the half century the memory gets a wee bity poor.

He ate a craw: heid, feet, tail and awe. From memory he could mend and splice and steer a course....Hi Ho!

[Bochan Mor]

Hoot the hell is Sanyana dain in Morenish's shed anyhow? Geesh! Gi the man a blanket before he sets himsel alight will ya!

Och Annie, Annie, Annie, I thought you'd know the answer to that one. As a wise auld Bochan once said to me: 'You can take the man oot the tent; but I'll be damned if you'll ever shift the tent oot the man, and most certainly not this particular man! Blankets be-goad, wae the heat thats coming from Morenish's chimney breast, his six nearest neighbours don't even need heating in the month of January.

As fer the schrechling gulls, ye can aye tell when there's a storm fer they a gather on the green in great big flocks and screchle away tae their hearts content!

Ach it wouldna be a problem if I never heard thon screchle ever again!

I guess the lambing season is over noo, eh? Morenish will gee Sanyana a wil' beltin' if he catches wan on he's strays roon his lambs, right enough! Best go on patrol Bochan and see if he can keep the peace roon there!

Morenish has already worked out the ideal ratio of lambs to blades of grass in his garden, using a formula involving predicted ambient temperature, grams of fertiliser per square metre and consumption of grass per kg of lamb, so pity help anyone that upsets that proverbial apple cart. He always says that lambs make light work of the grass, whereas the ewes make a sow's ear out of his beautiful green silk purse.

Anyway, all this thinking is leaving me woosy. I'd better head off to the bear pit before ma peepers involantarily shut themselves bar-tight for the night. That was another wild weekend in Glesga, and like one or two other participants on here, I've not quite recovered. The poor wee village will be namely not for the first time, and with the fishing exhibition coming up, it certainly wont be for the last!!!!

[Annie]

Aye Bochan, yer still a wil' man ur ye!

Or are ye jees gettin' aul' laek a' the res' o' us!

Takin' ye a wee bitty tae recovery noo, does it naw??

Naw worry boot it tho - tis the same fer masel'!

Have a shandy, and it'll fix ye right up!

[morenish]

bl00dy hell!! its taken me 8 days an a lot o snoddys skills to get ower that wan, WORKIN CLASS ! hero aye maybe but WORKIN .....................ach i need another wee lie doon....................where the bloody moderators now, why are you letting a bochan lible me on a public forum in such a way!
how many times have ah telt ye bochan i do the thinkin mrs morenish is the worker, ahm that insulted i might never take the mick out of a baldy hieded bochan ever again, i hope ye get a puncture in that rid astra an ahm no meanin the tyres either!

[Annie]

Ah forgot ye had the Mrs. Morenish tae keep ye warrrm!!!!!

Ye should be glad she's a guid wurkin' wummin!

Ye hae tae gee the Bochan a by, fer they get wil' an' scunnered when the bad weather comes an' there's naethin' else tae dae.

So t'is tae the mischief the Bochans turn themsel's instead o' houkin' tatties, or chasin' lambs aboot the dale!!!!!!!!

Aye, 'tis true! That an' the drinkin'!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ach, I might jees' hae sum Bochan blood in me masel', fer ahm gettin' a fer drooth jees writin' this doon!

[Bochan Mor]

bl00dy hell!! its taken me 8 days an a lot o snoddys skills to get ower that wan, WORKIN CLASS ! hero aye maybe but WORKIN .....................ach i need another wee lie doon....................

Easy now Morenish, if you lie anymore, you'll ruin another new matress on poor Mrs Morenish. There's just naw enough hours in the day for her toil to keep you in things that your wearing out. The only things that aren't worn are the blade of the bushman saw, the shaft of the hammer and the blade of your rusty auld scythe. She's got a wild job keeping you in bib and braces, but it's aye the erse that turns to stoor before anything else.

Poor put-upon Snoddy!!!

I expect that you called him to your bedside again, seeing as how he only consults in the morning, and there isn't enough Piriton Syrup in the whole of Argyll, never mind Kintyre to dampen down your reaction to dealing with rising before noon. I expect that you were needing to consult him regarding that big business transaction that your about to undertake.

It's a terribly difficult concept for a working class hero like yourself to accept, but you just have to grasp the nettle and tell the whole village that it's time that you came out.

Yes that's right, Morenish has confessed his desire to become a H.O.M.O (House of Misery Owner). He has finally decided to exercise his crofter rights and purchase the steading and mineral rights to his small holding in the village. He's in the process of hunting down a Philadelphian lawyer, able enough to tie the existing owner in knots over the crossing of the 'T's and dotting of the 'I's.

Easily pleased, the only condition to be written into the contract on behalf of our furtive furrow dodger, is that the current owner comes and mows the lawns, with a sub clause that the execution of the task must take place no earlier than high noon.

i hope ye get a puncture in that rid astra an ahm no meanin the tyres either!

I've got a fine vehicle of my own thank you Morenish, and it's about to descend the Skipness road faster than you realise. I'm sitting here in Tarbert with a Bluetooth link to ma laptop, having received a tip off from the site administrators.

There's a few things in life that are rid, and a damn site more that you're better rid of, and Vauxhalls are certainly high up that list, as they're naw that photoge..... easily sold wae a low, never mind a high mileage!

Now away out the back and plant an extra couple of drills of potatoes and leeks, because it's going to be a long cold winter and I've plenty of hungry mouths to feed!

[morenish]

well annie i don't think the bochan is out chaseing lambs at all,at all he's far ower busy trying to keep the neebours tups oot his own field o gimmers,all the while keeping a weather eye oot for an old ewe thats only had a lamb every second year and is still fairly fit, for himself,all this fairly keeps him occupied and limits his time for mischief as he ranges far and wide accross the land and sea trying to keep folks hieds above water.
well thats what he'd have us believe anyway!

but yer wrang bochan my steadings been my own for nearly 20 years now and mrs morenish has cut oor silage regularly and skillfully all that time and more, the scythe is rusty because we have modern equipment with imobalisers to keep joyriding bochans from causing untold damage to oors and oor good neebours property.
mrs morenish has been to college to learn all the latest skills, safety awareness classes to keep her safe and all those leaning on gates watching the work in progress.

as for hunting lawyers it's a most lucrative passtime allbeit no so easy now that you can't flush them out with dogs,but when all wims clients get bored blasting pheasants to mince he sends them over to me and we have a wee lawyer drive among the whins, £200 a gun, but by chove they're no ower easy got though, but if you have the patience of job and stand very quiet for several hours you might just catch the whiff of condor ready rubbed, drifting along on the evening breeze from a patch of roddys, this is getting more difficult now with all the smoking at the cruban door masking other smells, a very entertaining passtime though especially watching from the seat of my pickup where the midges can be beaten by the aircondeeshoning.
this was all thought up cos you lot winna let me shoot turkeys anymore!

but i have to inform you bochan that your wrong again on the subject of my dungarees the seat in them is fine it's the waistband that seems to shrink in the wash causing me to try and purchase even larger ones in mr martins agricultural boutique.

but ach the poor rid astra, they were never that bonny a vehicle methinks but as they get old the seem to get very rusty round the arches, however beauty is in the eye of the beerholder, large round headlights are a distinct advantage on twisty, single minded roads, but at your age maybe that amount of beer would put you over the limit and causing inability to drive.

[Bochan Mor]

but i have to inform you bochan that your wrong again on the subject of my dungarees the seat in them is fine it's the waistband that seems to shrink in the wash causing me to try and purchase even larger ones in mr martins agricultural boutique.

Mrs Morenish was at me right enough, wondering if I could teach her how to rig yer dungarees up like a cod end on a trawl net. She thought that it might be an inexpensive method of curbing your appetite, and damn handy for hoisting you out of your bed in the morning or off the living room floor when the weans are trying to hoover round you. She was talking about a small gilson winch in the garden wae a series of blocks and ropes. Her idea was to shake you out like a chainbag on the dredges, as she says that you harbour a fearful amount of crumbs in your creases, which invariable hit the carpet when your finished sitting and rise to head up the stairs. I said to her: 'It's a wonder that he can rise at all.' She said: 'Aye Bochan, but there's rising and there's rising!'

[Bitter End]

Aye Morenish ,Thets the best use by far thet I've heard o fur a lawyer in a lang lang time. Ahm richt gled thet yeve explained the soft soons o discharge Ahve bin heerin ower the past few years oan the aaf season ( an ther wis me thinkin thet the youth hid finally learned aboot the the silence o a 410 ! ) An as tae yer shrinkin overalls ---whit a pitty thet the Kintyre Fermers couldna hae jist hung in ther fur a few more years! they wid hae bin richt in profit!! Ach but thets jist time rinnin oan!

[Snoddy]

Aye Morenish ,Thets the best use by far thet I've heard o fur a lawyer in a lang lang time. Ahm richt gled thet yeve explained the soft soons o discharge Ahve bin heerin ower the past few years oan the aaf season ( an ther wis me thinkin thet the youth hid finally learned aboot the the silence o a 410 ! ) An as tae yer shrinkin overalls ---whit a pitty thet the Kintyre Fermers couldna hae jist hung in ther fur a few more years! they wid hae bin richt in profit!! Ach but thets jist time rinnin oan!

Mr B. End, you should contemplate hanging your head in shame, along with Mr Morenish. Lawyers like doctors are professional people, the salt of the earth and deserve to be treated with respect. Where would you be without a good lawyer? I accept that there may be isolated cases of rogue traders operating in the legal profession, but lets be honest, they are few and far between.

This reference to the 'rid astra', is it an anogram of Astrid or disastar? I realise that the spelling is far from correct, but the tone has been set by Mr Morenish.

What about old Annie, has she had her blood tested recently for type 3 bochan antibodies. Mr Pongal was hinting that she may be in standard isolation mid Pacific... To the best of my knowledge it is incurable. Yes Annie, be warned, once a Bochan, always a Bochan!

[morenish]

no no bochan mrs morenish is no keen on anything to do wi ropes efter an unfortunate experience just efter we were merrit,an am no sure whether a wee gilson would lift me or not anyway, an what would we attach it to?
that gerdens gie soft when it rains, nah, nah yer no thinkin this through, you folk that were at the fishin are all the same ye canna bring those methods ashore an expect them to work.
if and i do mean IF i needed help to rise from my own floor i'm sure mrs morenish would use her own, and very adept skills with a pitchfork which has shifted many an unwilling beast and fed them as well.

snoddy the only thing salt o the earths good for is killing slugs.

now annie dont you bother about the bochan blood in you, it's there and cant be helped we find here that a wee sensation of the low flyer is all thats necessary, it has been found to keep all the bochans in good humour.
low flyer as in grouse whiskey(moto per ardua rid astra)

now bitter end, while many a pheasant was put out of its misery with a silenced 410, EC rule 4378654009/934-256 subsection 345 states that lawyers are not to be shot with anything deemed less powerfull than 12 bore, smooth bore weapon or .222 rifled weapon with the rifeling turning to the right.
rifeling to the left and silver bullets are for the other "profesionals"and those living off their parents income.