Carradale

[Mary G]

Your cousin Margaret is of half-Carradale extraction anyway, 4th Gen - so maybe that explains her "fresh" look, as you describe it... if indeed, as Pongal suggests, it is all the Carradale ones whose genes defy the normal aging processes.

I put it down to the midges myself. They force people indoors, away from the sun, wind, and the other wilder forces of nature that lead to premature old-age.

[Right Pongal]

Your cousin Margaret is of half-Carradale extraction anyway, 4th Gen - so maybe that explains her "fresh" look, as you describe it... if indeed, as Pongal suggests, it is all the Carradale ones whose genes defy the normal aging processes.

I put it down to the midges myself. They force people indoors, away from the sun, wind, and the other wilder forces of nature that lead to premature old-age.

Naw, Naw Naw, Mary G. You've got it all wrong. The Carradale folk are out and about as much as any, infact are famed for burning the candle at both ends. Some were saying that Snoddy was prescribing HRT to all and sundry, men and all (Hence the proliferation of man boobs in the 50+s). But no, it was more natural than Snoddy's leftover placebos. The secret is and always was the humble herring, and the more you ate as a young fla, or young thing, the younger you ended up looking 50 years down the line. Its the same up in Tarbert, but for some reason, only the select few in the Wee Toon got the concentration required. I have to admit right enough that some of the Southend folk have realised a similar benefit from the love of the humble turnip.

Sadly for the generations to come, there's damn few of the young crofters that have tasted a herring, never mind gorged on them for weeks on end. At least the farmers can still pick the best of the tumshies for the bairns before they scutch the rest over to the sheep. The good people of Tarbert will also manage to hang on to some level of eternal youth. Despite the demise of the herring fleet, the village is surrounded by cages full of rid-coloured fish. Aye, the young Tarbert lads have a wild gloss off their hair and a wicked twinkle in their eyes, like you probably haven't seen in many a year.

[Mary G]

More than just an interesting theory, Pongal: By the looks of this research and medical advice, feasting on herring as a youngster could also explain the cheery disposition of the Carradale folk:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/main.jhtml?xml=/health/2005/09/29/hdep29.xml&sSheet=/health/2005/09/29/ixhmain.html

This article also recommends oats … maybe it is oats grown in Southend, and not the turnips, that brought similar benefits.

In fact, herring and oatmeal, that is a meal and a half. No doubt soon to return to fashion if this article has got it right.

[Ship called Dignity]

Can you remember when this thread started? Its now about to have 50,000 views!

Night out wae the Bochans, Pongal, Mornish, Bubbly, Heidless Horseman etc for the 50,000 view!

[dgraves]

Can you remember when this thread started? Its now about to have 50,000 views!

Night out wae the Bochans, Pongal, Mornish, Bubbly, Heidless Horseman etc for the 50,000 view!

Have they agreed to this lure of yours, Davie?...or is it their plot?

[Bochan Mor]

Can you remember when this thread started? Its now about to have 50,000 views!

Night out wae the Bochans, Pongal, Mornish, Bubbly, Heidless Horseman etc for the 50,000 view!

Have they agreed to this lure of yours, Davie?...or is it their plot?

If it's plots your looking for, better speak to Morenish, as he's the owner of the real-estate.

50,000 views must be almost up there wae the Courier: Oban Times Ltd beware! Where did all these droll folk come from? There's been no sign of bubbly or the Heidless Horseman for a while, I doubt that they must be away on holiday on a different weblog. I haven't seen a scouder all summer so far either, although I've smelt them whilst passing a few beaches in the car. Davie P has been quiet himself, no doubt mischief making elsewhere.

I was thinking of auctioning a night wae the Bochans on Ebay, wae a feed at the Heritage Centre before dusk then up to JDCarra's garden wae an armful of cockabendys to throw at the unsuspecting caravaners heading for the glen to get clear of my pet mudges.

Then over to fill Morenish's tractor exhaust wae the contents of yer granny's old feather bolster. Mrs Morenish will be up at the crack of dawn to wind up the old workhorse (Then try to start the tractor). The object of this exercise is to get a photo wae a fast shutter speed, jeest as the soot and feathers come bursting into the atmosphere.

The caravan site would be another target for mischief, wae spud guns sporadically splatting the taught aluminium walls, without leaving a mark. Just enough to awaken the incumbents, taking care to avoid the van wae the big alsation.

Enough of this nonsense, I'll need to get back to work now, as your council tax is about to be squandered!

I'll need to work out the reserve price for Ebay

[Bitter End]

Bochan Ahm thinkin this is whit yer needin . Spud gun-- http://platinumchromatography.com/potato.htm ---
this wull punch a hole richt thro the carravan an the Alsation tae!!

[Bochan Mor]

Jings Bitter End, you've evolved into a right subversive. It must be all of those paint ball games that you've been acting out with Morenish up in Airds Wood. I can just see you bursting out of the old hoose with a knife between yer teeth, and skelping Morenish's erse with a stripped back fern. Never mind, I'm sure he would enjoy it!!

No, those spud guns of yours aren't subtle enough. I mean, we really need these folk to come back, even if it's just to further wind them up. You should try taking them over to Dippen and aim them at the clay pigeons.

[morenish]

i'm tellin you bochan if mrs morenish catches ye it'l no be a skelp across yer erse wi a bit bracken or even a ping from a spud gun. she has a S/S wi good damascus barrels and an unlimited supply of cartridges and can bring down wan o duncans pheasants at 70M in the blink of an eye, boy o boy you dont know who yer tamperin with here!
anyway i told here to clean that exhaust out last month and she said she was too busy, serves here right.

now while i'm all for a night oot for this poor 50,000er, whos payin?
can we claim a grant from the carradale tourist group?
it's all very well advertising nights oot but have you lot realised the price of the good stuff in the quantaties requiered by a crofter, (they can nearly drink wi soothenders)

[Bitter End]

Bochan, Ah pit the tattie launcher intae the auld net loft fur the summer so as no tae frichten the veesitors an Ah bring it oot fur the winter whin Ahm lookin fur a pot o skart soup! Its grand tae see thet weve awakened Morenish though. thers times Ah think thet he his slunk oot o the village oan some pilgrimage or anither tae look at beasts or machinery in far off lands--rumour has it thet hes bin tae the faur east tae look at Yaks!! Jist imagine if ye can ---the "Carradale Yak" --a beast thet he can use fur ---transport ( ride it lik a hoarse) , pullin a ploogh ( whin he rins short o rid diesel), clothin (very hard wearin an windproof an waterproof), shoes an boots, stews an barbeques, dry sh-t fur burnin in the fire,.Its hairs thet long ye can knit jumpers wi it an AH suppose ye couild mak stook nets oot o it tae. They couild even become anither toorist attraction!
Now now Morenish whits aall this aboot the cost o a wee drink? Am Ah tae understaun from this thet the coil his bin smashed again by the exise?

[Ticketty Boo!]

Weel, weel. The crew of the guid shup Ticketty Boo! are basking doon here in Cornwall at the meenit in lieu of their annual sojurn to Trumpton. Very nice it is too. Picturesque, nae rip aff prices (in cheneral) and friendly people. What a stark contrast to the shop at the quay!!!!

We're already booked up for Trumpton next year, so we'll see you aw soon - or sooner.

[Pete Reek]

Ah see that Bochan Mor (A gentleman and a scholar if uvver thurr wis wan) sez that Mr Morenish and she who must be obeyed, ur owners o the real estate!! Ahm jeest wunnerin if the estate is real, but wunna lake tae besmirch the good mans reputation dae yi see.
Noo ah jeest heard this wee snippet an hae nae wey o funnin oot if its true or naw, so ah thought ah should ask the venerable eastsiders if they know anythin aboot it.
Seems that sum wumming that sometimes can be seen plooin an batterin lumps oot o a silage treller wis singin at a Karaoke night and she took off hur coorse boot an held it up in front o hursel. She wis geein it laldy tae the bottom o the boot an when the MC asked hur hoot she wis daein she said she wis a "Sole Singer" Wan wag (naw Posh Spice by the way) startet tae sneeger at her so she geed her two wi the berr heed an wan wae the bunnet. Efter that she wis sinkin the wee goldies lake a good yin an ended up bloody blootered. She wis lettin yins go that the owld Chookie Embra wid be prood o, an the whole place ended up stinkin o Pine Air Freshener.
She wis sittin in a corner an wis seek on a veesiturs doag, wan o they wee Chi wa--Cheewa-- a wee Mexian type o doag. The owner wis rightly pissed off an dragged the poor wee thing ower beside hur an pointed doon at it but wis that angry he coona get the words oot. She jeest sterred at the wee thing an said that she coona mind eatin it, but that wis lakely hoot made hur seek.
Wan uther wee thing afore ah go. Thats some Spud Gun!! Mind Saddam had wan hoorafa lake that.
Morenish ses that he uses sumthin wey a Damascus barrel tae bring doon Dippens pheasants. Christ yi can reach oot the car at the side o the rodd an catch them. Ach he might jeest lake a bit o sport.

Cheerio eenoo.

[morenish]

aye ye right there pete the coil wisna smashed but i was, i jeest took a wee sample to make sure i wisna goin to poison anybody and bang in they came to the cave beside the bochans!
4 customs, 2 polis, and a suite from the anti terrorist branch in case the stuff wis explosive (an gues whit?)
wi the stuff bein a wee thing stronger than id planned for i didna see them commin, in fact i saw naethin for several hours, and they also thought i had excersised my right to remain silent, but that wore off too,especially at the thought of not seeing my beautifull coos for 28 days, at the end i got quite emotional so they did some investigating and asked if i was intending to supply the stuff to muslem extremists, i said i thought yon boys never touched drink so they let me go???

mrs morenish was so relieved to see my return she only skelped me wance, she was even more relieved when i pointed out that they hadna even looked for the main stash hidden in among the silage bales, so we had a wee celebration wi oor neebours which is possibly why the good lady at the carryoot-ok was a wee bit sick, she possibly cant remember eatin yon wee dug right enough but she told me earlier she likes her steak very rare when i caught her bitin wan o ma good calves on the erse.

ahm a wee bit worried aboot ma real estate too, if it's no real why did i pay money for't? an can i sell it again in a year or 2 at a profit?

and no way bitter end am i bringing any more yaks to carradale theres plenty here as it is, in fact when mrs morenish finds oot who yaked to the excise men, i think the pto for the dung spreader will be engaged

[Right Pongal]

Yer slipping up Morenish, either that or you're getting old. Gone are the days when you would have coerced Mrs Morenish into more than one slap.

Ach well, I didn't notice yourself up amongst the auld bochans at Wellpark the ither day. They seemed to be working on an old net resembling something that was dragged from the Boom. It might even have had remnants of an old German U Boat hinging from it.

Apparently the football club was getting fed up wae teams like Southend coming up and blootering the ball right over the bar and into Scraw's field. After the ball boy negotiates the electric fence, he's then forced into thinning a drill of turnips before being allowed back over with the ball. I always wondered why the games at Wellpark were lasting an hour and ninetly minutes, but they're saying this is why.

The Southend team were said to be quite delighted with the status quo, as they would head back down home wae their pockets bulging wae turnip thinnings.

Pete Reek, don't you be listening to Morenish and his Damascus barells. I heard it was a harpoon gun that he was operating with. With his hert and kidney trouble, he canna be seen to be leaning out windows and grabbing pheasants by the thrapple. No, he fires the harpoon, then reels in the string. The nearest he ever gets to the fishing, ye understand.

[Bitter End]

Thank ye Pongal Ah aye wondered whit happened tae Watkins auld guns an noo Ah ken! Ah shouild hae known they wid be lyin among yon great heap o "scrap" oan the 'real estate/!