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HOLDING THE PLOUGH

My grandmother died when I was fourteen years old and the family home had to be sold off. The attic was cleared out but not before I had rummaged around among the gas masks from world war two; the radio valves that my dad had hoarded in case friends or neighbors needed radio maintenance as he was the handy man in that field; and the cobbler's lasts that my grandad had used in his shoe repair shop; they filled every nook and crany of that dusty glory hole. Among the detritus I came across a notebook with sepia toned photographs of a mustachioed gentleman with wife and two children. I don't remmeber my grandfather but the notebook turned out to be his . After reading this all too short reminiscence I think I know my grandpa somewhat  now and you dear friend  after reading this story will be a wee bit more informed of working life in the Highlands of Scotland  more than a century ago. What follows is:  My Grandfather's Diary of Old; a story of working life in the Highlands of Scotland.

Auld Reekie

 

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My earliest memory would be most likely when I was four years old, I am guessing, as I was not yet in primary school which I would attend when was five; but before that I remember  going to Sunday school to learn bible stories and simple hymns. My father came from a stricly religious family that read the bible daily and grace was always said at mealtimes so we grew up when going to church on Sunday was taken for granted; it was simply the done thing for my brothers and I to walk to the service in our best clothes  as the church bells pealed out their message. I also have a vivid memory of tagging along with my mother when she cleaned house for a couple of our more well to do acquaintances, polishing floors by hand  and dusting furniture. At this early age my brothers were already at school so I had my mum all to myself though most of the time  I paid little attention to her household chores as I was usually rummaging around the toy cupboard lost in an imaginary world of chilhood adventures. I can still recall the jovial face of the man of the house who would toss a sixpence in the air and make it "disappear" only to have it re-appear this time from behind my ear though I cannot recall what I did with the sixpence if in fact I actually got my grubby paws around it. This genleman, Mr. Cameron, had a calm appearance with a shock of white hair very like that of Bertrand Russell, the philosopher and peace activist though of course at the time I had no idea who Russell was or that he even existed but later in life I would read his work but found Principia beyond my capacity to understand.

A Vegan Way of Life

 

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The Bean Machine was a home based vegetarian supply shop that catered to the local community in the Borders Region of Scotland , which is well to the south of the capital, Edinburgh but a good distance also from the English border marked in some places by the remnants of Hadrian's Wall. A van was kept stocked with lentils, rice, flour, vegetables, soy products and deliveries were made to some remote households nestled between the rolling farmscape and rushing rivers of this delightful rural area dominated by the river Tweed and the townships of Galashiels , Peebles  and Montrose.

Temple Gate

 

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This wrought iron gate was designed by the local artist, historian, writer and potter, Alasdair Anderson and constructed by the local blacksmith in 2001 to commemorate the passing of Alasdair.The gate stands at the entrance to the auld kirk in the village of Temple in Midlothian, a small community but an old one dating to the dissolution of the order of  Knight's Templars when many escaped from France by ship after the French King Philip began arresting the Templars in 1306.

Lost at Sea: Lusitania

 

My father, James Mackay had a cousin with the same name living in Edinburgh who was a singer of Scottish songs prior to the world war one era and went to Canada for an extended tour followed by a season of engagements in America including the Carnegie Hall in 1914 to celebrate the five hundreth anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn when the English were routed by Robert the Bruce and sent home to think again. I had trouble locating his name on the passenger list of the Lusitania as I hadn't realised he used the name Hamish since starting his entertainment career however survivors of the sinking of the transatlantic liner off the coast of Ireland as it headed for Liverpool on Friday May 7 1915 recalled that Hamish had sung beautifully on Thursday evening at the ship's concert and had promised to sing again on the Friday. My grandfather during this period had almost decided to emmigrate to Canada after finding employment in Toronto as a shoemaker however the ship he sailed home in was a much less grand affair than the Lusitania and in the end he did not bring his family to Canada deciding instead to open a shop in Corstorphine, a suburb of Edinburgh , next to the railway station and moving in to a house within walking distance on Sation Road. Hamish was survived by his wife Morlich who was also a singer and had been waiting anxiously at home for news of his return hoping that he had sailed on the American liner New York City which she had advised him to do after the German embassy issued a warning in America not to use British ships. However a letter she received as the liner was in mid- atlantic revealed the intention of her husband to sail from New York  on the Lusitania which would arrive within six days. On the Friday she got the tragic news and a family  friend journeyed to Queenstown in a futile search for her husband. Worldwide anxious and distraught people poured into Cunard's offices seeking information about  passengers and crew in addition to the steady stream of telegrams which kept the frantic employees engaged in revisiting lists and answering questions above the constant jingle of telephone bells. 

Egrets were almost wiped out by the early pioneers of California who sought their fine plumes for use in ladies hats.

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