Christmas Crackers.

I hate to say this out loud but I think I have cracked it.

My grand son asked for a picture of a Tiger.  (thank goodness it wasnt Iggle Piggle or Superman)

It was still windy this morning and we had had a fair bit of the white stuff.  The car didnt seem to mind the switch back of drifting snow, from our house to the main road, over and down into the village of Inverallochy.  Where I wanted to post some parcels. 

The Postie said, " Now, for security reasons I have to ask what is in these parcels."

I looked at him, and he looked at me.  We both had very serious expressions.

" I dont know how to make a bomb, and I think it would be considerably heavier than these."

I did tell him what was in them but I cant tell you.  For security reasons.

Then it was in to the Broch (Fraserburgh) to give in the menu choices for the Wednesday Morning Art Group at the Leisure Centre.  I really should do a post wholly on the Leisure Centre.  So I will soon.

But for now here is a picture.

and another.

 
I handed in the menu choices and the woman said, "Oh that's great."  And shoved them in what really did look like a waste paper bin.

Fortunately I have lots of copies.  I have been there before.  " No I would never order Salmon, cant stand it."  

I should say that not only is there a 10 pin bowling alley, and a bowling green (?) also a very nice restaurant.  And it is within sight of the sea.  Sadly its main drawback is that there are no windows, not one.  Probably designed by some one who thought it was to be underground.

Next week is our Art Group's Christmas lunch.  The preceding day is the Wreath Making Session and Orange Pomanders, no less, at the Lighthouse Museum.  To my amazement I appear to have it pretty well organised.  Oasis wreaths, ribbons, bits and pieces, greenery yet to be cut, oranges to buy, but Orris Root powder and thousands of cloves - got!  Not helped by people dropping out at the last minute.  Oh well.  And I cant find all the Christmas cds......

 
 So half crackered.
 

Back to Normal.

The Dawn Patroller is back on his early morning forays.  A cold and frosty morning.

The Pink Footed Geese in front of Cairness House.

Which as soon as they spotted the DP were off.  As they fly they call to each other and this is quite magical.  The birds arrive here in September and are now beginning to fly home, to Northern Europe.

I have yet to see one of these birds, in the flesh, a Bullfinch. They do not visit our garden.  Though I live in hope.  He is perched on some Pussy Willow.

This is a Buzzard.  We have lots of these birds of prey around.  They take rabbits, but join in with all the seagulls following the plough and therefore are not adverse to the odd worm.  Difficult to tell from the photograph but they are quite big birds, one swooping past the windscreen of your car blocks out most of the light.

On a Monday the DP becomes a man with a trolley on a mission and goes to the supermarket.  You often get stuff cheaper on a Monday, and we are but poor pensioners when all is said and done.

But he usually makes a detour.

Sanderlings on Inverallochy Beach.

The Bay at Inverallochy.

Looking Northwards to Cairnbulg.

I have mentioned these two villages before.  Two small fishing villages, our nearest to the sea, were divided by a stream, now a road divides them.  Inverallochy on the right and Cairnbulg on the left.

While he was doing all that I was finishing off my catch up of cleaning, what with pleurisy, Kids Activities etc., I had let everything on the housekeeping front get in to one hell of a state.  We do not use shop bought cleaners, we make our own, white vinegar in water and in a spray bottle, and borax or bicarbonate of soda.  Plus soda crystals down the plug hole every so often followed by a kettle of boiling water.  My bathroom now gleams again.  And I have had no nasty chemicals stopping me breathing. (I also use the vinegar mixture at the lighthouse when I do the lenses, as the stuff they use is enough to fell me at six paces.)

Once lunch is over - duck eggs today, yum, its down the shed.

Work in progress.

Blue tit is finished.  Its tiny.  I can knock one of them off in the afternoon.  This is our task at my Wednesday Art Group, think small.  Hmmmm.

I would far rather be splashing the paint on big time.  In fact I am on a bit of a roll at the moment.  I had a delivery this afternoon from Great Art, which included three new, all different sizes, but large, paper pads.

I had to force myself to leave the shed, come back to the house, force myself to have a glass of wine, and stop myself from starting at least two other ideas I have buzzing. Well, you have to stand firm sometimes, cheers.

Temperance Marches.

Each year the North East of Scotland Aberdeenshire villagers of Inverallochy, Cairnbulg and St Combs take part in a temperance walk to shake off the winter cobwebs. Each village in the Buchan Rathen Coast takes turns to host the walk which has been happening for over 160 years. 

The history of these walks dates back to an evangelical time in the villages when they were regenerated after a bad period during the 19th Century when there was much village fighting and drunkenness which only ended after an outbreak of cholera in 1847. After this epidemic the communities grew and turned to religion. The tradition of the temperance walks started at this time. 

Inverallochy and Cairnbulg are two fishing villages, only separated by a road, that once was a ditch.  

Inverallochy has first go and has their Temperance March on Christmas Day.  

Today, New Year's Day, they cross the road and Cairnbulg has their Temperance March.  Which was joined by the Dawn Patroller, and his camera.

Now I, for one, was deeply moved to see that this is not just for the oldies.  Young children, and teenagers, carrying on the traditions of this part of Scotland.

Before they set off a man with a loud voice asked, "Did any o ye hae a drink last night?"

And all the kids shouted, "Yes!"

As they moved around the village various stops were made for local worthies to come out and bash the drum.  One of which, from the DP's description was Count Dracula (not far from Slains Castle) but was probably the local vicar.

Tomorrow the Temperance March is at St.Combs.

None of the three villages had a pub.  Nor did they have 'offies'   Though now there is the local shoppies which have a very good selection of cans, bottles, wines, spirits, oh dear.  And also we have The Tufted Duck, a hotel with a bar situated some hundred yards from the South edge of St Combs.  It is the only restaurant in our corner which has a view of the sea from its windows.

Wee bit further than a march for us, but then we are not Temperance......