P&J Column 2.11.17

It’s the ultimate Trick or Treat: “Gie’s a sweetie or we’ll tell you fa won The Bake-Off”

View From The Midden – Rural Affairs with Jock Alexander

It’s been a chronometrical wik in the village. It’s yon time of year fan the nights are nae so much drawing in as dragging on, and there’s nithin for it but tae turn the clocks back. Me, I jist rely on my ain body clock, on the understanding that nae metter fit time it is, my body winna be shifting fae my cosy bed unti a’ the frost his melted aff the seat in the cludgie. But at this time o’ year, onyb’dy can get confused and make a collop o’ things that are dependent on kenning the richt time. Jist look fit happened tae yon wifie fae isnae Mary Berry fae the Great British Bake-Aff. Noo I dinna understand that show. Ab’dy watches it for reasons naeb’dy can adequately explain. Including masel. I dinna ken the first thing aboot baking, in fact, I canna tell an Entremet fae the Internet. As the loon fae Curry’s observed files he angrily scooped chocolate mousse fae my laptop’s disc drive.

But fit a stramash fan the new judge, fitiver-her-name-is-that’s nae Mary Berry, forgot she wiz 6 hours ahead of the UK and inadvertently revealed the name of the winner on Twitface, far abd’y wi’ nithin better tae dae on Halloween could see. I missed it masel, as I wis still trying tae extricate the kitchen knife I had embedded in a neep in this years effort to mak a traditional lantern. Fan will I learn that the only wye tae make a traditional turnip lantern is we’ the aid o’ state-o’-the-art laser cutting equipment? It wiz a bit tie scary this Halloween, I hive tae say. I tell ye, it’s name like it wiz in my day fan we jest went guising wi’ a wee baggie, a paper mask, and wheelbarrow containing a large unsupervised bonfire.

This year in the village the chill night air wiz fairly rent asunder wi’ the wails o’ the tormented and the shrieks of the damned. ‘Oh, for ony sake’ you could hear them cry, their anguished voices floating over the roof tops, ‘will you kids gie’s peace? We’ve a’ready dished oot a’ the sweeties, and we’re trying tae watch the final o’ the Great British Bake-aff’.

Onywye, there she wiz, the wifie fae used tae be Mary Berry – nae hermin’ naeb’dy, in the weel-kent centre of patisserie that is Bhutan fan she got a’ mixed up wi’ her timezones and thocht that we a’ready kent fa won. Nae doot she’d had o’er muckle cookin’ sherry, or fitever the Himilayan equivalent micht be. Michty, I’ve hid the same experience masel. Last Hogmanay I couldnae hiv telt ye fa I wiz, niver mind fan or far. Turns oot I wiz in Moldova, but I digress. So I winna hear a word against fitever-her-name-is. Whether the clocks ging forward or back, or fitever time zone yer in, it is true tae say that time marches on regardless. Yesterday is today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream. This is particularly true if ye’d had o’er much cooking sherry. Cheerio!

 

Cava Kenny Cordiner, the football pundit who calls a trowel a shovel

There’s an old saying that says, it says, “good things come to those who lift weights”, and for Aberdeen players Ryan Christie, Kenny McLean and Graeme Shinnie, they has been weighted long enough. They finally got a call up to the Scotland squad, funnily enough as soon as Gordon Strachan got his jotters.

Old Kenny knows all too well the pain of being cruelly overcooked when it comes to the National Squad. For years I was knocking my pan in, trying to attract Jock Stein’s attention, but I never got to experience life in the famous dark blue jersey. Apparently Jock thought I was a liability because I spent so much time knocking other people’s pans in, but I thunk that was a bit rich coming from the man what gave so many caps to Roy Aitken!

I seen that speedster Lewis Hamilton laced up his 4th world title in Mexico at the weekend. Some folks is saying that it’s amazing how the UK has produced someone so naturally talented at driving fast, but I doesn’t think it’s so surprising. Since summer they’ve caught 5000 drivers speeding on the A90, so I think there’s a little Lewis Hamilton in all of us! I just hope the other 4999 has drivers learnt their lesson, like what I did after my £200 fine and 6 points. Criminal.