May 112012
 

By Bob Smith.

Some sma villages are deein
Aa ower the kwintraside
Young local fowk are cryin oot
Fer a wee hoosie fer ti bide
.
There are hoosies in the villages

The young canna afford ti buy
Fair forced oot  o the mairket
Prices are ower damn’t high
.
Snappit up bi fowk nae local

Some hoosies noo a holiday hame
So the young hiv ti move awa
Iss is maist criminal an a sham
>
Hoosies noo jist lyin empty

Jist used a fyow wikks a eer
Or lit oot bi rich owners
At a sky high rent a fear
Local pubs an shops are shuttin
Cos there’s nae bugger left ti spend
Except fin the absent owners
Turn up at an odd wikkend
.
Local skweels are slowly closin

Cos young couples move awa
Aa fer the wint o a local hoosie
Far they can becum a ma an da
>
A law it shud be passed

Village hooses maun be offered
Ti fowk faa bide roon aboot
Afore incomers bids are proffered
.
The young are a village’s future

Wark an hooses we maun provide
An keep up the community spirit
Fit holiday hame gadgies canna provide

© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”2012

Image credits:
Midlem Village Hall © Copyright Iain Lees and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence
Thumbnail © David Napier under the Creative Commons

Mar 302012
 

By Bob Smith.

On mither earth faar we div bide
Thingies noo are fair on the slide
On iss sphere in the universe
The gweed life noo is in reverse

Flora an fauna are aa in decline
As the human race dis undermine
The basics fer the warld’s survival
Yet maist fowk’s brains are in denial

We build an drill an pull oot trees
The polar regions nae langer freeze
The kwintraside noo aa tar scarred
As motorin groups they lobby hard

Mair an mair hooses biggit near toons
Coverin fertile fields we kent as loons
Rape an winter wheat full fairmer’s parks
Nae placies left fer the peesies or larks

Aathing noo maun be neat an tidy
In winter time things canna be slidie
If sna faas doon at the rate o faist
It’s look’t upon as bein a bliddy pest

Yet sna we need ti fill lochs an rivers
It melts in the hills an rins doon in slivers
So we can aa drink a draught o H20
The watter levels shudna be ower low

We cut doon rainforests so cattle can graze
Or palm ile is socht ti mak soap fer yer face
An fowk faa hiv bade in thae forests fer ‘ears
Throwen oot o their hames bi firms’ owerseers

Mither Earth provides us wi aa wi need
Sustainable? Aye bit nae fin there’s greed
We maun use less of fit Mither Earth dis gie
Some fowk in oor warld iss they canna see

I hiv some hope Mither Earth wull survive
As the younger fowk weel they div strive
Ti gither an protest aboot fit’s aa gyann on
Mither Earth micht yet see a brand new dawn.

.

.
© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”2012

.

Image Credits:
GRASSHOPPERS © Steffen Foerster | Dreamstime.com 
PLANET EARTH © Foto_jem | Dreamstime.com

Mar 152012
 

By Bob Smith.

A’ve aywis likit the kwintraside
Born an brocht up on a fairm
Faar as a bairn a cwid wanner
An nae cum ti ony hairm

Doon the wye fae oor hoose
Wis a burn fit’s ca’ed the Ord
Sittin on its bonnie banks
A nivver wid be bored

Twa railway sleepers war laid doon
As a crossin ti oor neebors parks
An on iss bittie slabs o widd
A sat listenin ti the larks

The Ord cam oot the nearbye dam
Faar twis rumoured pike war seen
Mony’s the time a wint fishin there
Wi string, wirms an bent peen

In warm simmer days a paddled
Some bandies in a jar a’d trap
Syne studyin them fer a fyle
Afore back in the burn they’d drap 

Sometimes I aet ma denner
Doon b’ the burn o Ord
Fine sandwiches an bannocks
Wi ale fae yon Bon Accord

Lyin on the grassy banks
Peerin up at cloods abeen
Watchin the odd antrin plane
Fleein ower b’ Aiberdeen

Noo an agin there wid be a splash
Fit slippit oot o its burnbank hole?
Maybe Kenneth Grahame’s “Ratty”
Better kent as a watter vole 

The Ord it jined the Leuchar Burn
Slowly wannerin its wye ti Culter
Faar the statue o Rob Roy stauns
Wis he a hero or jist a looter?

It wis on the banks o the Ord
A learnt fit naitur’s aboot
Ma love o the kwintraside cairries on
O aat there is nae doot 

© Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”2011

Nov 242011
 

By Bob Smith.


Silence we need noo an again
Yet it’s affa hard ti find
Aabody fleein aroon at sic a rate
Takin pairt in life’s daily grind

Silence wid be a bonus
Fin we jist sit aroon an think
Yet afen silence passes by
t’s past afore ye blink

Silence on a bonnie day
On a hilltop far fae toons
Watchin the cloods floatin by
Is een o life’s great boons

Silence fae noise o motor cars
Or mobile phones eynless  ringin
Silence jist ti rest yer brain
An ti hear the birdies singin

Silence is a gift ye ken
An een nae afen gien
Wi chatter, clatter an bangin
Silence seen becomes yer freen

A “Silence Day” we shud hae
Fin ti scraich an yell’s a crime
An raakin up the decibels
Wid git some a hefty fine

Silence tho micht be nae gweed
Ti an aul body bi thersel
Silence wi naebody ti spik ti
Wid bi seen as a livin hell

It canna be ower muckle ti ask
Fer fowk ti be a bittie quairt
Iss micht jist hae fowk smilin
Fin silence it taks pairt

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011
 Image credit: © Craig Hanson | Dreamstime.com 

Aug 082011
 

Fighting Wildlife Crime in Aberdeenshire is an on-going struggle.  Grampian Wildlife Crime Officers rely on the public to catch criminals as well as to hopefully prevent crime.  Andy Turner puts Aberdeen Voice readers in the picture.

3373.  No, these aren’t the latest winning lottery numbers, but it is the total land area of Grampian Police Force coverage in square miles.
This number can present a bit of a problem for Wildlife Crime Officers.

Divided equally among the 12 Wildlife Crime officers in Grampian, each officer would have a beat of around 281 square miles!

That’s an awful lot of ground to cover and can make for problems in terms of detection, investigation and enforcement of Wildlife Crime.

Wildlife Crime continues to blight Scotland’s outstanding natural heritage.  It can impact upon rare and iconic species, often involves cruelty to animals, can destroy specially protected habitats and interfere with legitimate countryside management and recreation.

In fact the term ‘Wildlife Crime’ covers a huge spectrum of criminal activity, and can occur in both the countryside and urban areas.

Wildlife Crime Officers in Grampian have dealt with cases of poaching (deer, fish and game) crimes against badgers, hare coursing, crimes against birds including: poisoning, trapping, shooting, disturbance, nest destruction and egg collecting, disturbance of marine mammals, crimes against bats, the taking/killing of Fresh Water Pearl Mussels, CITES offences in connection with the trade in endangered species, damage to protected sites and crimes against protected plants to name a few.

The huge diversity of wildlife crime calls for a diverse approach to tackle the problem.  To this end the Grampian Police are part of the Partnership for Action Against Wildlife Crime Scotland or PAWS.  PAWS has representation from police, government agencies such as Scottish Natural Heritage, conservation organisations like RSPB, land management sector and others with the common aim to stamp out wildlife crime through education, awareness raising and enforcement.

Like other crimes, Wildlife Crime is committed by a very small minority of people who either knowingly flaunt the law or commit crime through lack of awareness.

Wildlife crime can often be linked to other rural crime, and for this reasons suspects should never be approached by the public.

While the police keep records of each reported Wildlife Crime, it is hard to establish the true extent of Wildlife Crime that occurs in Grampian and Scotland as a whole.

This is due in the main to one of Scotland’s greatest commodities: its vast areas of countryside, countryside where crime is possibly going on undetected or unreported.

In July 2010 Grampian Police employed a Wildlife Crime Education Officer (WCEO), the first post of its kind in the UK.  The aim of the post is prevention of wildlife crime by raising awareness of the problem, education and encouraging improved reporting.  The WCEO will be working with land managers, conservation groups, outdoor access and sports groups, schools and universities for the duration of the 3 year post.

Around 530,000 live in the Grampian Force area.  The population in general is becoming more mobile, and access to the countryside for recreation is more readily available now than ever before, with pursuits such as mountain biking and hill walking on the increase.

While this access needs to be carefully managed, it does present an ideal opportunity to arm those using the countryside with the facts about wildlife crime and the impacts of crime on both wildlife and people. For those working in the countryside this means enabling them to work in an informed and importantly a safe and legal way.  For those accessing the countryside this means reporting any suspected wildlife crime incidents thereby making the Wildlife Crime Officers 281 mile beat a bit more manageable!

It is important to remember however that for reporting to be effective it must be genuine, timely, accurate and detailed.  If these four conditions are met there is scope for Wildlife Crime officers to focus efforts by responding to real incidents, and reduce time spent scouring the countryside following a poor lead or inaccurate information.

In Grampian Force area alone the Wildlife Crime Unit can receive over 50 calls per month, ranging from hare coursing at Elgin, dolphin disturbance at Aberdeen harbour to salmon poaching on Deeside.

Among the genuine reports are others which can relate to road kill, natural deaths or even miniature penguins at Aberdeen beach – which turned out to be young guillemots.

Legal countryside management practices can sometimes be misconstrued for illegal practices.  In extreme cases legal cage traps, spring traps and snares have been tripped or vandalised, and call birds released by people who misunderstand or disagree with their purpose.  Despite personal views people should never take the law into their own hands.

I do not want to discourage the public from picking up the phone to call the police – in fact it is quite the opposite – but try to have all the information at hand to help the police deal with the call in the best possible way.

By following this simple checklist (below) when reporting a wildlife crime, and hopefully through awareness rising, effective reporting and enforcement it might be possible to establish a true picture of wildlife crime, and to help stamp it out throughout Scotland.

Visit the Partnership for Action Against Wildlife Crime in Scotland (PAWS) for further information on wildlife crime.
www.scotland.gov.uk/Topics/Environment/Wildlife-Habitats/paw-scotland

If you suspect a wildlife crime is/has taken place:

DO:

  • Report any suspicious activity as soon as possible to your Force Service Centre and ask to speak to a Wildlife Crime Officer
  • Take a note of the date, time and weather conditions.
  • If possible, identify a map reference or ideally a GPS reading of both the incident scene and location from where you witnessed the incident.
  • Note a description of person/s involved including gender, age, height, clothing etc.
  • Write down any vehicle registration numbers, make, model, and colour that may be involved.
  • Identify other witnesses and obtain their name and contact details.
  • If possible, video or photograph the scene, or make a rough sketch.
  • Cover up any suspected poisoned baits or victims to prevent any animal / person coming into contact with them.
  • Do report. Even if you are not sure – report the incident. The evidence of wildlife crime is not always obvious. 

DO NOT:

  • Do not disturb the scene by moving items or walking about unnecessarily.
  • Do not touch dead animals or birds, especially if you suspect that poison may have been used. 
  • Do not interfere with legal countryside practices such as the legal use of traps and snares, hides, high seats and shooting butts.

NEVER:

  • Never approach suspects or intervene if you suspect someone is committing a wildlife crime – you may put yourself in danger.
Jul 292011
 

By Bob Smith.

Young Dod his ti get mairret
Ti a quine fae doon the howe
He hisna tell’t his mither yet
So there’ll be an affa rowe

Fan Dod’ll tell his mither
I’m nae jist affa sure
Bit ye’ll nae doot hear her rantin
Fae Alford up ti Drummuir

Dod’s quine’s jist a young deem
Fa’s pit on a bittie wecht
Throwe a bit o hunky punky
Efter a marquee dunce at Echt

His mither noo she’s affa prood
Dod’s the aipple o her ee
She’ll fair be less than happy
If  neebors gossip ower their tea

It’ll be a funcy waddin
Dod’s mither wid hae nae less
Fit I doot micht bither her
Is the young quines type o dress

Foo tae cover up the bump
The quine’s mither will wark oot
Fit she wid richt like ti dee
Is skelp Dod’s lug nae doot

The quine hersel is nae pit oot
As she gyangs aboot her wark
Nae doot thinkin o the nicht
Young Dod he made his mark


©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010.  Image Credit:   © Madja | Dreamstime.com

Jul 012011
 

George Anderson continues his masterclass series in Doric,  offering an appreciation not only of the spoken language, but also the wealth of meaning between the economically delivered lines – and a breath of fresh air.

Background

When Aberdeen Voice’s editorial team asked me to conduct a series of Doric Master Classes I jumped at the chance. The language lab above my garage in Auchnaclatt can be stifling in summer. Besides, I was fed up teaching American tourists how to order breakfast (Kin I hae a bug o rowies and a slack handfae o yer floory baps please?) But first things first I told them. Students of Doric must learn to breathe correctly. So that’s where we’ll begin.

Breathing

… is vital for survival. Stop doing it long enough and your tatties will soon be ower the side.

The ancient Tai Chi masters knew this (about the breathing that is; not the tatties). They were taught from the temple crèche to breathe in through their ears and out through the soles of their feet. Though this practice was discontinued in the seventeenth century after complaints from monks about condensation in their gym shoes.

Good breathing is no less essential when learning to speak Doric properly.

Breathing Exercise

This exercise has been designed to allow students to experience for themselves the correct way to breathe during conversation. Throughout the exercise do bear in mind the two fundamentals of Doric breathing: when listening, only breathe in; when speaking, only breathe out.

Students should work in pairs and have a paramedic on standby.

Instructions

One person plays the speaker. The other takes the role of listener.

Speaker:

Start reciting the words to the ‘The Mucking of Geordie’s Byre.’ These must be spoken in Doric, at about twice the speed of an hysterical auctioneer on his third line of coke.

Listener:

Just as the speaker begins, draw a gaspette of air in through the mouth while saying the word,  ‘Aye’. Repeat this for as long as the speaker is speaking. Take care not to breathe out.

If you feel light-headed or confused, if you experience vertigo or the feeling that your lungs might at any moment explode, call your GP immediately – and tell him you have just mastered the art of Doric inhalation.

It has been clinically proven (67% of 285 breathers agreed) that your lungs will now contain levels of carbon dioxide similar to those recorded at the bottom of a colliery lift shaft.

Aim to reach this point at the precise moment when the speaker stops talking. Some feel nauseous at this point. If you are one of them, it helps to ground yourself by holding on to something  — a telegraph pole, tree or a Ford Mondeo usually hit the spot.

Whatever you do, don’t faint; it will shortly be your turn to speak.

But you can think only of filling your burning lungs with oxygen in vast, life sustaining quantities. To do this you will first have to expel all of the noxious gases your lungs contain.  And here we have a dilemma. Your conversational partner may believe that you are having a hairy fit. Worse; they may believe that you are feigning a hairy fit because you can’t bring yourself to share their concern for the cleansing of George’s cowshed. What to do?

Well, the answer is to use the blast of carbon dioxide your body will at any moment force from your chest (with or without your permission) as the carrier for your reply.

Speaker:

Stop speaking. It is your turn to say ‘Aye’ while only breathing in. Get to it.

Listener:

(now adopting the speaking role): Recite the chorus to the Barnyards o Delgatie (reproduced below), out loud and real
fast (if you can distinguish one word from the next you are not speaking fast enough). Aim for 0.8 seconds from start to finish.

Luntin addie, turin addie,
Luntin addie turin ae
Luntin lowrin’ lowrin’ lowrin’,
The barnyards o’Delgaty!

Next lesson:

Now that we have covered the mechanics of breathing the subject of our next masterclass will be ‘Doric and the beatnik culture’.

Image credit:  © Max Blain | Dreamstime.com

Jun 242011
 

George Anderson presents a masterclass in Doric offering an appreciation not only of the spoken language, but also the wealth of meaning between the economically delivered lines.

Background:

There is something about the North-east’s doom laden outlook on life that makes Victor Meldrew look like he’s been at the laughing gas.

Victorian artists painted skulls in the corner of their canvases to remind anyone who had drifted off the page, that the bloke with the scythe was never more than a step behind them.

Up my way we need no such reminding; we see the end of our days in the faces of anyone we know over fifty.

It is customary in the north-east of Scotland to point out to any third parties who will listen, that so-and-so is ‘looking aul’’. The phrase is equivalent to saying ‘His tatties are gey near through the bree’. In other words that the fellow should get measured for the widden bilersuit on a sooner rather than later basis.

The Performance:

Students should study the masterclass notes below before practicing the following piece of dialogue from ‘Duet for Arthur Duguid’ by Udny playwright Harold Painter, known in the north-east of course as Harold Pinter. Emphasise emboldened words.

Line 1: I seen Arthur Duguid at the Gala bingo last widdnesdae
Line 2: Did ye?
Line 3: Aye. He’s nae half lookin aul’
Line 4: Is he?
Line 5: Oh, he’s lookin aul’ a right.

Students Notes on pronunciation:

Line 1: This line should be delivered as you might read out loud the names of all those who died building the Burma railroad.

Line 2: Try to get as much astonishment into these two words as you can muster. Imagining that you have just been told that despite flailing at the beast with his pension book, Arthur Duguid had been skewered through the tripe like a kebab during this year’s Pamplona bull run.

Line 3: Advanced students may want to try the accompanying actions to this phrase. Hold a trembling hand an inch or two from your face and draw it down the visage as the phrase is uttered, to emphasise the fact that Arthur’s signs of ageing are now beyond the reach even of industrial strength Norwegian Formula Neutragena.

Line 4: As for line 2

Line 5: Place double emphasis on the second instance of the word ‘aul’’

Both should end the piece with hands in pockets, performing the ‘shakkin o the heid’.

Picture  © Paul Moore | Dreamstime.com

Jun 182011
 

By George Anderson.

We can never predict when a sudden insight into the workings of our innermost selves will light up our consciousness like an 11 Watt low-energy bulb.
We imagine that such events occur in mysterious places such as Ayres Rock or the luminous bowling alley at the Codonas funfair in Aberdeen.

But in my experience, the location of your average flashbulb moment will be as ordinary as chapped tatties. A place like the freezer cabinet of my village shop last Thursday.

I was leaning over the rim of the cabinet contemplating what life must have been like in the days before we could blast freeze our garden peas within ten seconds of hauling them out of their pods. I was considering whether to go for the leading brand (‘satisfaction guaranteed or your money back’) or the Value Pack (‘please see rear of packaging for list of disclaimers.’).

The Value Pack was a pound cheaper but the contents even when defrosted had the density of buckshot. I reached for my choice. And that’s when it happened.

I first became aware that something wasn’t quite right with the world – well, with my trousers actually. I looked down to discover that in my haste to get to the shop before suppertime I had pulled on the wife’s tracksuit bottoms instead of my own (why, oh why are pastel shades so unbecoming to a man in his late fifties?).

The realisation that shunted into the rear of that first thought was that not only were the leggings incongruous, they were outside in!

This would never do. I live in the heart of a rural community. It is a place where a man is a man and is expected to behave – and dress – like one. Let me explain.

Imagine this: A farm worker with a dodgy watch relaxes behind a hay stack during a lunch break. He sucks on a chut (singular of chutney) from his ploughman’s sandwich. Suddenly he realises that his watch has stopped; that he should have been back in harness twenty minutes ago. He leaps to his feet and bolts off spitting Cheddar. He is thrashed to the ground by the mercilessly flailing blades of a combine harvester which breaks both his arms like cheese straws.

Now, in an episode of Casualty, an air ambulance and a battalion of parachuting para-medics would descend fom the sky and the lad with the two broken arms would be whisked off to the heli-pad at Aberdeen Royal Infirmary. But you would be hard pushed to find anyone within a thirty mile radius of my village shop who would not expect that lad to get on his bike with a wobble-free lip and pedal to the ARI using the ‘Look-Ma-Nae-Hands’ technique.

How, I thought, could such people ever look favourably on a middle-aged man wearing his wife’s jogging bottoms inside out in close proximity to their rural community’s only freezer cabinet?

And that’s when the 11 Watt low-energy bulb came on. And I released that, actually, I didn’t care what they thought.

I was flying without wings – despite having a bag of Albanian peas under each oxter. I strode flamboyantly to the checkout  with pastel pantaloons ablaze. I was free, free, free at last!

Next week I plan to push the envelope of my new found freedom by nipping down to the village shop for a copy of the Turriff Advertiser wearing my wife’s bra around my head in the semblance of a Spitfire Pilot’s headgear.

That’ll separate the men from the boys!

May 062011
 

By Bob Smith.

 

Nivver myn The Duncin in Kyle
Lit me tak ye back a fyle
Fin on duncin I wis richt keen
In the halls o’ Garlogie,Echt an’ Skene  

Ye  birled ti bands like Bert Duff
Fin loons like me wid strut their stuff
Some at duncin war fair fleet
Ither eens  they hid twa left feet

There wis ither bands like Mary Milne
Fa hid ye waltzin wi great will
Ye war up duncin an eichtsome reel
Hoochin an skirlin like a feel

Maist couldna afford a motor car
Bit they cam fae near an far
Buses, bikes an usin their feet
At wikkends they war nivver beat

Ye’d ask a quine up for a dance
Roon an roon the hall ye’d prance
Quicksteps, waltzes an foxtrots
Sometimes yer feet war tied in knots

 

Great times ye hid tull near midnicht
Some loons wid be an affa sicht
Een or twa hid ower muckle booze
The chunce o’ a date they wid lose

Duncin wis the time for ti chat

Ither quines fa maybe cam fae Clatt
Or deems fa bade up in Midmar
Fower o’ them cam doon by car 

Noo an again a fecht wid occur
Like fin some feel wid cast a slur
On the virtue o’ a local quine
Oor dander wis then up ti ninety nine

We were aa Jock Tamson’s bairns
Ti the duncin for tae learn
Foo ti dee an eichtsome birl
An aa the lassies wid hooch an skirl.

 

 

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011