Leaning awkwardly through the back window I glimpse the sun offering us the appearance of summer once again. Outside people pass by in flimsy outfits, T-shirts and shorts, dark glasses and thin dresses. All pretending the weather is hot because the sun is in the sky. Inside, I sit with a pullover on under my old man's cardie watching the temperature aim for the mid 60's, that's about 17% to you modern people. By noon it might become summer properly again.
Interestingly I was reading about one of those murderous English queens, Mary, the Catholic one who married Philip of Spain in an attempt to bring happiness to her people. His first ten days in the country, in mid summer, were a torrent of continuous rain! Add to this the diary of King George V, the one who served during the Great War as King, his 1914 diary is full of grumbles re the weather up to the end of July when it turns hot.
Some things never change.
Reading Jenny's blog brought back memories of Sunday School picnics in the 50's & 60's. In times past it was normal for the church to organise a bus trip out of town for all the kids, his must have begun in Victorian days, horse drawn carts if lucky, walking far otherwise. Charabancs in the 20's and buses by the 30's. All the buses we saw in Edinburgh would have streamers hanging out the windows, some places using double deckers as the numbers were so high. By the late 60's these had died out, the car, lack of numbers possibly, personal travel far afield ensured such events lost glamour to the wealthier society. However the picnic, especially with a decent crowd, has not lost enjoyment as Jenny's pictures show.
If lucky the place chosen for the picnic would be clear of sheep and cows and indeed their aftermath. But in those days we did not complain, we were just told to 'Leave Pat alone and carry on.' There were occasional races, competitions, though I canny mind any now, and a strange look from the Minister as I approached. I am unclear what was going through his mind but it did not appear to be "Let the children come to me."
I have vague memories of the strange smell of the plastic mug, even worse the tin one that enabled whatever we had put in it lost all flavour! A bag of buns and I suppose sandwiches were given, I canny mind sandwiches but i do remember Edinburgh's buns! In those days little side street bakers made their own cakes and buns, snowballs, 'fly cemeteries,' and brown things covered with chocolate were the thing! When I was last in Edinburgh such dank bakers still existed, I wonder if they do now? I miss the snowballs! It is rather sad that 'Greggs' and the like and considered better than the corner baker.
Of course Scots died from eating 50 years worth of such things...
Boris has 'visited' Scotland.
The Scots informed him of their opinion of him so successfully he left by the rear door!
Unlike in England where many threw coloured balls at him as he passed nothing but 'Boos' and jeers greeted the bumbling PM. In the west he had blethered on about the EU 'dropping the Backstop and showing 'common sense and intelligence,' failing to mention Theresa came up with the Backstop. He also failed to mention why the EU should back down when he wishes to leave not them!
Ruth Davidson, the strange wee lassie who runs the Tories in Scotland, refuses to accept the 'No Deal' scenario and has made that plain to him while offering her full support, 'Tory style' I suspect.
In short he has been shown the door by Scotland but like all at Westminster he will care not about that, his friends and his position are what counts to him.
