By Bob Smith.
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A’ve aywis likit the kwintraside Doon the wye fae oor hoose Twa railway sleepers war laid doon The Ord cam oot the nearbye dam In warm simmer days a paddled |
Sometimes I aet ma denner Lyin on the grassy banks Noo an agin there wid be a splash The Ord it jined the Leuchar Burn It wis on the banks o the Ord |
© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”2011
It seems all Aberdeen’s comic characters are lining up to do PR with the BIG Partnership. Jake the Ghost ghost-wrote an article, Morris the Monkey has a blog. Even Sir Ian Wood has given interviews. Old Susannah always wondered what life was like for celebrity characters, and while Morris the Monkey hasn’t as yet returned any of Old Suz’s phone calls, Lena the Hyena had a window of opportunity, and spoke to Voice.
My question is, as a Hyena and a professional writer, are you worried about Morris the Monkey’s appearance on the Aberdeen celebrity animal journalism scene?
What’s your opinion of Morris’ sensational new blog in support of the CGP?
Lena the Hyena: Hi Suzanne.
Morris, you’re not alone in hoping that one day Aberdeen City Council would take its responsibilities seriously and give some much needed attention to Union Terrace Gardens. Sadly it has failed in that duty and, yes, its gates are locked early and too often.
I once stood with a group of embarrassed City officials, including the Lord Provost, locked out of the Gardens where a launch of a piece of granite art was supposed to be happening. So we slunk around Union Terrace for a while then sloped off to the Town House. Such is typical of Aberdeen City Council’s slick operations.
Yes, Morris, the once vibrant Gardens have been well and truly abandoned by this irresponsible Council.
And talking about that my dear Morris, let me take you aside and explain that the reason no-one plays draughts in Union Terrace Gardens anymore is, Morris, because the Council took them away. The rascally spoilsports. Watching people playing chess in the centre of New York is a fine pastime for passers-by and so it was in Aberdeen. Then the Council stepped in, and you know Morris, when the guy from the Council, let’s call him Mr No, turned up with his clipboard he wasn’t going anywhere without confiscating the old guys’ draughts.
You got friends in the Council, Morris? Perhaps if you asked the spoilsports to return the draughts they might oblige, it could be that they’re still locked up in the Gardens just over the road from you.
Trainspotting, Morris? You do know that no-one will be able to spot trains once the concrete web is built don’t you, Morris? Didn’t spot that one coming either, did you, you wee monkey?
Oh Morris, Morris – just how will the concrete web make the gardens greener? Morris?
Please Morris take that banana out of your eye. Hemmin, gie’s a packet o’ that green grass. No nae that green grass that ither green grass.
Morris lad. You can’t be serious!
Bigger trees, Morris? Now you really are taking the monkey. The big trees, Morris – and I’ll say this very slowly – the big trees are being chopped down and wee trees will be planted, in tubs no doubt, supplied by a mannie who is backing this project. Not big trees, Morris, really quite wee trees. If you try swinging on any of them you’re no going to last long when you drop off and plunge onto a whole lot of awfully hard concrete. And then Morris, you’ll be on yer own, unless any of your pals in the Council are fellow swingers. A wee nudge there Morris.
Oh, Morris, lad, I sympathise with you that your bar is empty. God only knows why. Me? I couldn’t hazard a guess. Hey – you got a good friend, Morris? Someone who could be honest with you?
And a wee word of advice, Morris, don’t listen to rumours. Most of them are wishful thinking or even deliberately deceitful, Morris, can you believe that? Humans call that monkey business. Ooh, mischief-making, rascality, roguery but being a monkey you’re probably familiar with this, eh Morris?
Temperatures are plummeting; Holiday lights are being blown down on Union Street, and it’s been snowing in Aberdeenshire. Local wildlife needs your help to make it through another winter writes Suzanne Kelly.
If you have a window box or a large garden; if you live near a park or open waste ground, here are some tips.
Water
All living things need water; birds need it to drink and to bathe. Can you keep a shallow bowl of water outside, keeping it clean? Then you’ll be doing a large service to wildlife.
Food
If you can afford to buy specialist bird seed or suet and seed balls, that’s great. But birds will also be grateful for your kitchen scraps, particularly in winter. Bits of cheese, pet food, cooked pasta, suet, fruit, cereal, and nuts – even cooked eggs and eggshells will be appreciated. Whatever you choose to feed your birds on, make sure it is kept clean and is out of the reach of predators.
Shelter
Insects, bees, butterflies and birds will greatly appreciate it if you can leave a patch of lawn to grow tall. This is crucial for many species. A pile of old wood makes a shelter for insects and small animals. Bird houses and bee boxes can likewise be bought or made (you will find instructions on the Internet)
Domestic Animals
Domestic dogs and cats do not have the same qualities for surviving harsh weather as wild creatures. Do not leave your animals outside overnight. Some cats may like to come and go at all hours, if you can put in a cat flap that might be a solution. But domestic animals will suffer or possibly perish in extreme weather. Do not assume it is OK to leave them outside – it is not.
And just in case there are some people who have not got the message yet – do not leave animals unattended in cars. This is advice from the RSPCA and the Scottish SPCA. In the summer we are still reading stories of dogs dying – they can’t sweat; a closed car which might be a bit uncomfortable to people is an oven to them. And unfortunately there have been more than a few incidents of dogs being stolen from cars and from in front of shops.
Whatever the weather, if you are leaving an animal alone, if something happened to you out of the blue – what would happen to them. The advice is – don’t do it.
Gardening for Wildlife
It might not seem like the ideal time of year to do any gardening, but it’s a great time to do some planning. A wildlife garden even in the city can help our overall wildlife population. Habitats are being lost at an alarming rate to development. People are increasingly getting rid of their lawns in favour of parking or paving.
Grass is integral to wildlife survival – birds need to hunt worms; the soil supports all sorts of life, and plants are essential to all forms of wildlife.
It’s never been easier to plan a wildlife garden – the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds has an online service which will tailor a gardening plan to your exact situation. The Homes for Wildlife scheme will give you dozens of suggestions – most of which couldn’t be easier to implement.
Visit http://www.rspb.org.uk/applications/homesforwildlife/home.aspx for details.
By Dave Watt.
Luckily I had an alibi – I was at home in Mastrick watching Thunderbirds and eating fish and chips for tea with my family at home – according to my mother. Allegedly.
Leaving aside this annual foray into cultural imperialism, (how come no-one ever asks where were you when Anwar Sadat or Olaf Palme were killed?) I have to say that the date of November 22nd became something of an epiphany in my life when our English class at Aberdeen College of Commerce on 22nd November 1970 was asked to write an essay entitled ‘Where I Was When John F. Kennedy Was Killed’.
Being of a flippant, frivolous and sardonic nature I decided to exercise my sense of humour on the subject. I stated that although being only twelve in 1963 my family had actually been on holiday in Dallas at the time staying with a fictitious Uncle Jim and Auntie Jean. I went on to tell of borrowing Uncle’s old Manlicher Carcano rifle (which he had brought back from Italy in 1944), and deciding to go shooting tin cans without telling anyone.
After having been moved on by several irate families of picnickers, who seemed to object to wayward 6.25mm rounds whistling through their barbecues, I eventually found a quiet wall on top of a grassy knoll where I set up my tin cans and began shooting.
Imagine my dismay then when, after only two or three shots, I heard an uproar from the other side of the wall.
“Oh God”, I thought, “another barbecue screwed, another family vowing Death and Destruction”, and quickly made myself scarce.
End of essay.
I duly handed in the essay, smirking with self-satisfaction, and entered the English room on the 6th floor the following day with a certain sense of anticipation. This pleasant mood was quickly exploded when Mr T, the English lecturer, proceeded to give me a right royal rocketing, during which my antecedents, birth, present attitude and future career were all consigned to join the onions on the compost heap of history.
Obviously something of a JFK fan (we hadn’t found out he was rogering Marilyn Monroe or had kicked off Vietnam at that point) Mr T lectured me on lack of human feelings, lack of respect for a deceased head of state, my attitude, presumption, complacency etc. etc. In short, Mrs Watt’s little boy was given some serious amounts of grief.
Although this was a bit disconcerting to the gauche nineteen year old under the cosh at the time, it did provide a valuable insight, which has been borne home to me again and again in the intervening years since.
This lesson is, of course: There Are A Lot of Po Faced Bastards In The World.
By Bob Smith.
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A meadow ower on Tullos Hill A maun confess a love fer trees Ye’ll hae wild flooers an ither plants Doonamang aa the grasses Hay meadows are rich in earthwirms |
Noo meadows provide nesting grun It’s reckoned ae hail acre Anither species faa wull benefit Jist ti waak throwe a meadow So awa wi yon feel ideas |
©Bob Smith”The Poetry Mannie” 2011
Image credit: Suzanne Kelly.