7 December 2021

For host of reasons, I am finding the most vivid of memories of my childhood come rushing to the surface of my mind...In my last post here my memories of the happy little house where I was born. Warmth, laughter and excellent cooking were the features that prevailed there and, of course, got taken to our next home. In these minds eye reruns it seems every frame is filled with people...our family and friends. The big dining table in the living room, was always set for "the extra guest" or more, and the places always filled.

The meals in our home were well planned and expertly cooked by our mother. She had studied dietetics and nutrition, in Glasgow. Everything she did was well managed. Back in those early days, the 1960s, I remember, the meals related very much to shopping trips and the supply and availability of items of food. The week was punctuated by the trip or trips to town.

Tuesday was very important as it was Family Allowance Day, so that was the main food shopping day of the week. There was a regular and frequently used bus service, at the end of the road and we were very lucky as our family had use of a car. Our mother had passed her driving test just before her eldest child was born. She would often comment that this gave her a great sense freedom and confidence...She was to enjoy driving until she suffered a stroke, in February 1994, less than a year after the death of our father and granny (her mother)...Some days she would have the use of the car, driving our father to his work and then being able to get about all day. I remember from times not at school, Tuesday mornings involved a lot of queuing. First at the Post Office, in Francis Street, to collect the essential Family Allowance, lots of women met here every week, and then followed the same pattern down the street. To queue again in W. J. MacDonald's, "Willie John the Butchers", which usually followed the Post Office. Here our mother purchased enough meat and dairy produce to provide several meals. As I explained in an earlier description we did not have a croft or life stock, so we were rather deplete in the experience of such fundamental aspects of our rural life, though we did have hens that provided a wonderful daily supply of eggs. Butcher shops, in the 1960s were still literally raw places, with blood dripping animal carcasses hanging on meat hooks, from wall mounted rails. The floor covered in saw dust. They were none the less clean. "Willie John's", has been transformed over the yeas, but it is still a great local shop now in different ownership. We still go there.

Now I vividly remember Willie John MacDonald himself, indeed a substantial man in every way, he was very fond of my Dear Mother. They always quoted Robert Burns poetry to each other when he served her. I remember he wore a brown overall coat, under his blue and white striped apron.

A quick dart across the then two way traffic of Francis Street, got us to Hugh Matheson's, or Forsythe's, baker and grocer emporium. Here before the time of pre-packaging everything was slice cut or scale measured. Such shops actually smelt genuinely and beautifully of fresh product, rarely found in the vacuum packed era of today.

Further along, in Point Street, there was another such shop, Malcolm MacLean's, "Calum Sgiathanach", baker and grocer, later known as The Stag Baker's, after it's bakery relocated, to Stag Road, in late 1960s or early 1970s. Their shop in Point Street fascinated me as a child, as right throughout the year it had twisting tinsel decorations hanging from the ceiling. I was also aware of multi coloured glass in the doors and windows.

Because she baked herself, shop bought cakes were not ever on our mother's list. The only exception was if she spotted a special variety called "Kunsel"(?) cakes, rich chocolate confections, which I have not seen for decades. There would of course be purchase visits to many of the other shops in the town and we were well served by traveling shops and vans. But Tuesday morning established itself as the practical time for the main shopping for food.

29 November 2021

As a person intent on establishing multiple layers of positivity, for survival and certainly one who thrives on maximum intensity of day light. For me, the month of November has always been most challenging. As we all know, the last four weeks have been a constant continual of dark, dismal, wind and rain, hardly any day light and needed a special distraction, to generate cheer. For once drifting back in time was a bright option...My memories are genuine and clear. Mine, was a happy childhood, our home a pleasant retreat and sanctuary indeed.... to which, we often brought school friends back, to share the fresh home baking, and then tea table always set with extra places. Our first house, was a typical single storey "Board of Agriculture", croft house, though we had no croft and barely enough land to hang a line of washing at the back. The front, had a rocky terrain due to the remains of a black house. Nothing much grew there, and it was a dangerous place to play football, too dangerous for me and possibly explains why I never enjoyed that sport! Inside we had our living room, with its large dining table, and the solid fuel stove from which the hot water and heating was generated. The room at the other end of the house was the bedroom for the four of us boys. With it's double bed and bunk beds. To the rear was the other bedroom or more like "roombed", a very small space for our parents. The kitchen and bathroom, extended at the back. The kitchen was really too small for the whole family to sit to a meal, but it was nonetheless lively. A place where wonderful food and fabulous baking was created several times a day. We had a large glass porch at the front, where the light was left on every night, the font door never locked and the phone in the "lobby", was the only one at that end of our village and available for our neighbours to use day and night.

Happy as we were in our little whitewashed house, in Lower Sandwick our family had literally outgrown it. When I was eleven, we moved to an all together much larger house, a home customized for our family's requirements and architect designed. We now each had a bedroom of our own, but it took a few years before we actually settled into bedrooms of our own. Preferring to share with another brother.

Some memories of the little house where I was born. KB

23 October 2021

Positivity being what it is, I took myself in from the back garden - my hide away space - yesterday afternoon, to make two phone calls to two long established family friends. My maternal granny often said, that when people come to mind, it is a sign to make contact with them. That is exactly what I did, and found them both to be doing fine, considering everything. The second person I called, spoke briefly and asked to call me back, I suggested after it started to get dark. Thus ensuring a little more time digging and tidying, in those brief moments of autumnal sun and day light. In conversation it was mentioned that there had been an item of news earlier, that I would be interested in...I most certainly was. Indeed I am delighted to hear the outcome of the long awaited deliberations of the SOBC (Strategic Outline Business Case), on the future of the twice fire ravaged Glasgow School of Art. As announced by Professor Penny Macbeth, The Director of The Glasgow School of Art. Thankfully it finds in favour of a faithful reinstatement of architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh's iconic building. This news certainly lifted my spirit and has fended off any deflated feeling with the storm that is thrashing us here at the moment. The idea that the place that inspired so many of us fortunate enough to pass through those magic swing doors at the top of it's sweeping entrance steps, can actually rise again is wonderful on many levels. It gives back the opportunity to inspire future artists and designers of every discipline, from every corner of the world... It gives other opportunities for creative skills and expertise in traditional building techniques, and training, and employment... It gives back a unique building to our country and the wider world... But it certainly and most of ALL gives back the Great City of Glasgow - my own adopted home for almost forty years - and its wonderful people, back the special building and place that they were most proud of. Their sadness and concern at it's two devastating fires, and their generosity and contribution to it's repair was outstanding and overwhelming. This is good news and the outcome we had hoped for. KB

9 October 2021

One of the most rewarding greetings a person can give or receive...is..."you are looking good". No, not..."you are good looking", no doubt, that could lead to a number of misinterpretations. But "you are looking good", applies a most positive feeling to meeting someone, and can, I think, be a life line when a bit of the old"feel good factor" is required. Now, I experienced this lovely feeling on Thursday morning (7th October 2021). There I was amidst a time of quiet reflection, going through the motions of tidying the kitchen, when a particular cousin came into my mind. She had earlier, in the week, sent me a message to say that she had returned home to the island, last Saturday, after a few weeks away, and that she was looking forward to see me very soon... Now there are some people in the world who simply sparkle, brighten and illuminate, this cousin of mine is such a person. My granny was, my aunties and my mother were all like this. Indeed the women in the family, are just special So as I was pondering, how soon our next get together was going to be...the door bell rang...and there she was. This was the energizing force I was in need of, it certainly be a time of, fun yarns and good ideas and inspiration. I gently ignored her phrase, that she was "oh not able to stay", but I beckoned her to come through, to sit and have a cuppa. And then she told me..."Kenneth"..."you are looking good"... That was the most wonderfully uplifting thing that anyone could have said to me on that particular morning. It was so good to hear, even if perhaps, there was some room for improvement, in every aspect of my appearance!. My feel good factor was achieved, and I felt healthier and re-charged, in an instant. I was, at once "go-getter", and "positivity-personified".

When my dynamic cousin went off, I thought I must, now, apply the positivity that I now felt, to things that I needed to do and have been wanting to do, for a while. The obvious application of all this idea of looking good, is to be feeling good, as well... I imagine there is a connection. So where can I start and what actually needs the most benefit from a blast of such positive energy. Apart from health and fitness, it will be my surroundings and spaces, more specifically my house and garden. As I focus on the last quarter of the year, I wish try out these theories. With any luck my full being will benefit, and the process will be uplifting and enjoyable.

Some thoughts on positivity, to welcome day break - however dull

Saturday 9th October 2021. KB

7 October 2021

Well, I wish to thank everyone for all the kind responses and comments, to my post, of the day before yesterday, the 5th October 2021, which was accompanied by a very special photograph of my Dear Mother, the late Barbara Ena Burns. I was delighted to share this image of her in happier times, it is a picture that really does capture all her positivity and joy of living and love for the many people she enjoyed meeting in the course of her life. It is a picture that I look at as often as I can, to remind me of the important purpose of carrying on with life, whatever it presents.

I also enjoy the people I meet in the course of my life. I have spent some time since sending my post first of all in quiet reflection, at the exact moment of the first anniversary of her passing...07.47am 6th October 2021 - day break, which became a symbolic and special time for both of us, as it welcomed a new beginning for a new day, with all that that entailed. This now a most poignant moment for me...I have also enjoyed reading the kind and well thought and lovely messages, people sent. All this helped and guided me through what was a truly sad day. The first anniversary has now passed, and time is swiftly carrying me another stage of life... Thank you ALL X

5 October 2021

Exactly a year ago at about this time, on 5th October 2020, I wrote here that my Dear Mother's life was drawing to it's conclusion. She had drifted in and out of little sleeps all that afternoon and right then was beautifully in a gainful sleep, enough for me to slip away, from her side, to do some wee chores and take a moment in front of my screen, in the next room.

I shared some of the special memories of her teaching us the importance of sharing love and the fact that love does not divide or diminish, rather it expands and multiplies.

The idea that I was about to lose her and ALL the support, and love she gave, was overwhelming... My role as her Primary Carer was about to come to an end. I was so very sad... She had earlier asked me to promise her not to be "too sad". As she put it, "...Kenneth, please do not waste too much time being sad, when I am no longer here...You have much to get on and do, so do these things for me. Be the happy and positive person I showed you to be. Remember time is so very important"... I did promise, to do as she asked me. Her wisdom had successfully guided me through my life and I had much to refer to. I do find honouring this promise has been very hard to do...I am sadder than I can ever express...I am indeed overwhelmed and my grief is still very raw.

Now I wish to share a very special picture of my Dear Mother, Barbara Ena Burns. It captures and conveys much of the essence of her being. A beautiful and happy person. I remember it was taken on Sunday 12th of July 2009, we were enjoying a tour of the Southern Islands of the Outer Hebrides. Her idea, to sort of kick start my painting career, without delay, after I had just become redundant from a dull job tutoring in the West End of Glasgow. Earlier that Sunday we enjoyed the Castle Bay spectacle of "The Blessing of the Boats", and we were awaiting the start of the accompanying ceilidh, hosted by the wonderful local band The Vatersay Boys, in the Castle Bay School Hall. In the meantime we went to watch the ferry call at the pier and wave to a friend of ours sailing on from Oban to Lochboisdale. The photograph was taken by the friend from the deck. I love it and wish I could really enlarge it, as it reminds me of how she was in happier times and indeed how I see her in my mind. She was my guide and support...her legacy will continue. I loved her so much...RIP, my Dear Mother.

1 October 2021

 

So at last, yesterday, together one of my earliest school friends and I, ventured off to try out our "entitlement cards" or bus passes. A day trip from Stornoway to Tarbert, never minding the wind and rain, "Statler" and "Waldorf" were intent on having a fun time. Public transport is a great means of having a relaxing time free from the responsibilities of where to park one's own private transport. Sitting back and delegating the driving to a professional is something many more of us ought to do. We were the only two on that first journey of the day, there is a very good service with five from each place each day except Sunday. The journey lasts an hour, and it travels through the most awesome and majestic of the Hebridean landscapes. Being on a luxurious coach, passengers are comfortably mounted at a much higher vantage than those in cars and the spectacular views can be seen to best effect, even with the wind and rain. The fact that the steep, up and over, An Cliseam road takes the traveler from one side to the other of this great oceanic rock, goes almost unnoticed. We arrived in Ard Asaig, West Loch Tarbert just less than an hour after leaving Stornoway and the in next few minutes entered the main drag of Tarbert. Currently the whole place is undergoing a transformation with a total reconstructed the Ferry Terminal. I approve very much of such developments, and look forward to seeing it all progress. I also hope that existing features of this unique and ancient landfall can be conserved and retained. My favourite being the Tarbert Sores, which have a wonderfully Viking air about them. In past visits I would make a special pilgrimage to this characterful emporium to purchase an item of chandlery or hardware. (Now, for further explaination, this is Tarbert's equivelent of Glasgow, West End's old GLR Stores, that once thrived at Caledonian Mansions, Great Western Road). Though sadly the tall timber store in Tarbert is closed at the moment and looking very sad and vulnerable. I hope it will be back!

We disembarked into the wet Tarbert morning, and were soon making our route to The Isle Harris Distillery, via the activity of the ferry traffic. Just inside the entrance to the distillery a welcoming log fire is burning. I make one or two purchases, advance Christmas presents. But their cafe is still closed, a victim of the Covid restrictions. Back out into the rain, along to the Tarbert hub, and to the former First Fruits, now Waterside Cafe. A welcome late breakfast, followed by a visit to a Craft FaIr, in the Community Hall. We hadn't known about this and I made more purchases here. Including a splendid Harris Tweed waistcoat, which was made in Lewis of a patch work of bright colours and designs. It put me in mind of the large painting, of one of my favourite beaches I have just finished. Then we went to The Hotel Hebrides, in the hope of lunch and a libation, but we could only get the latter, the kitchen only doing dinners from 5.30pm. After a time watching Tarbert Central pass bye, we took advantage of a brief break in the deluge. Up along Main Street, to the War Memorial, then on to my favourite Hebridean hostelry The Harris Hotel. Many years ago this was the ultimate destination of our family day trips, a place of great traditional style and fine food. Yesterday, my friend and I arrived rather drenched and hoping for a warming lunch. We were not disappointed, and though lunches had just finished, we were offered fine bowls of soup, and we both opted for the Cullen Skink. A welcome warm place to hang our soggy jackets was provided. I resolved that a return visit here and possibly a weekend stay in this lovely old hotel may do much to recharge me, at the other end of the winter.

Now, Statler and Waldorf did not re-embark aboard the bus back to Stornoway. One of the friends, (not used to the marvels of public transport), got fearful that the bus was either running late or not running at all! Imagine being stuck. Anyway a kind offer of a lift was gratefully accepted and back to Stornoway, we all went. So, in conclusion of a day out, and away from the usual, that was not in honour of any celebration, we decided to go to The Crown Hotel's, Harbour View, for our evening meal, and excellent it was.

We had made the most of the last day of September and indeed got a flavour of the enjoyment to be had as Sixty Year Olds, utilizing the gift of our Entitlement Cards.