Sunday Sunday.. a protected space in a busy life ..
Listened to the inspiring words of Helen Steven on BBC Scotland’s “Sunday morning with….” (not yet available on iplayer!)
An icy Sunday morning walk up Dumyat, ‘Stirling’s Hill’, into the face of a low winter sun. ( http://www.walkhighlands.co.uk/fife-stirling/dumyat.shtml ) ..
Looking down the Forth Valley
Looking across Stirling to the Gargunnock Hills
.. then off to Solsgirth House where Anna and Euan are to be married in July…
Walking around Stirling on a November weekend
North Third Reservoir
River Forth and Abbey Craig
Stirling Castle Great Hall from Auld Brig
Auld Brig Stirling
Stirling @ 10am
Joan Sally Ian and I had a fine walk on a blustery stormy snowy morning up to the Touch Reservoirs on the moor south west of Stirling. Great views over Stirling, Stirling Castle, Forth Valley and Ochil Hills.
Stirling @10.15 am
Stirling @11.30
Stirling from the Touch Reservoirs
On the way down.. snowdrops in snow
I was pleased to read the article by Christopher Harvey in this week’s Scottish Review (click here ). One of the depressing things about the endless debate around the forthcoming referendum on Scottish independence is that it takes no account of the overall political shape of the United Kingdom, but is conducted purely in Scottish terms. Those who do not wish Scotland to be independent (yet, in my case at least) can only make a negative contribution to the debate, or are pressed into a position where it seems, somehow, that they accept the status quo as a desirable option. The status quo is not a desirable option. It allows minority parties to assume power and impose policies that the majority of the population have not voted for. It gives extraordinary power to Prime Ministers, allowing them to wage war against the wishes of the majority of the population.
From all points of view, it was, of course, a big mistake not to have a third option on the referendum paper. Such an option would have removed the partisan party politics which has led to the discussion into petty points-scoring, albeit the discussion would still have been cast in Scottish terms, since there are members of all political parties who would want to see some kind of Devo-Plus settlement.
However a Devo-Plus type settlement would still do nothing about the whole range of constitutional anomalies in the way that the UK is governed. As the debate progresses, I am increasingly drawn to the idea of a multi-party constitutional convention for the UK, which would be asked to sort out the problems currently facing UK governance, not least the West Lothian question and what to do about the House of Lords. These questions are far too important to allow them to be decided by whichever party is in government at any one time. I would want to see a bicameral federal parliament, with the governing Chamber directly elected and a secondary chamber, representing the constituent parts of the UK, holding UK governments to account in terms of constitutionally defined aims of government – social justice, the national and international rule of law, a bill of rights, long term economic stability and sustainability and so on. If these are the kinds of things which the SNP rightly calls for in an independent Scottish constitution, why can we not have them in a UK constitution and why cannot Labour, Liberal, SNP, Green and other parties broadly of the left see ‘governance’ as the first and most important issue facing the UK today. Such an agenda would be well worthy of campaigning for, instead of the rather negative ‘better with what we have just now’, when we know what we have just now is not very good, and constitutionally messy.
Talking Mats, a small Stirling company built on outstanding research and practice in improving communication, already Intern Placement Provider of 2012, Scottish Social Enterprise of the Year 2012 winner and twice nominated finalist at the UK Social Enterprise of the Year, gained another fabulous award at the Scottish Edge Enterprise awards this week, one of only three top award winners out of 235 entries. What a team!
A Talking Mat in use
A Talking Mat!
To find out more about Talking Mats, click here
To find out about the Edge Awards, click here
… with Sally and Ian, Joan and I walked from Callander to Loch Lubnaig by the grey River Leny under a grey snow sky,
at Leny Falls
Fabulous new exhibition at Pathfoot Building, Stirling University, based on a community history project, ‘The Stirling 100’. The project team researched the life history and newspaper notices connected with the deaths of 100 Stirling men, chosen from all parishes of the Stirling area. Each serviceman is accorded his own display. It was a very impressive and moving. Well worth a visit! We remember and grieve for all those young men and their families. The photos, tributes and letters speak for themselves. Three of the men, at random….
I attended the opening session of the Bloody Scotland festival here in Stirling on Friday night. It’s a festival of the Scottish crime writing community – ‘tartan noir’ as it has come to be known. Ian Rankin was speaking positively about the festival and about the community of common interest among Scottish crime writers. He paid homage to William McIlvanney by recounting how, as a an Edinburgh undergraduate, he had attended an Edinburgh Book Festival event where the older man was speaking. After the session, he had queued in line to have his much read, dog-eared copy of Laidlaw signed by his hero. Here’s my 1979 copy.
He had talked to the older man, sharing his ambition to write about an Edinburgh detective. McIlvanney signed his copy with the dedication, ‘to the man who wants to write the Edinburgh Laidlaw’ (later, as we now know, to be christened ‘Rebus’).
The next day, Joan and I went to McIlvanney’s session at the same venue and he confirmed the story. It clearly pleased him that younger writers show him such respect. The hall was only half-full but anyone who thought there was something better to do on an autumnal Stirling lunchtime was mistaken. I gave up reading McIlvanney some years ago after buying ‘The Weekend’, a tired story, not worthy of his earlier work. I had forgotten how good that earlier work was. These are strong, controlled stories, catching the lives of the ordinary people of the industrial West of Scotland. There are three Laidlaw books (soon to be reissued by Canongate). McIlvanney told us that his agent had wanted him to get into writing a series. It was not his ambition. He was never a commercial writer, as the more laboured later work shows. His other books of the early period, most famously the statuesque Docherty, are less driven, more descriptive, but these stories of Laidlaw’s crime investigations allow him to explore at pace the good and bad of the city he loves, Glasgow. The writing is peerless. McIlvanney read three extracts for us. Hearing his gravelly voice slowly articulating his lyrically descriptive prose was a joy. If you’ve never read any McIlvanney, you’re in for a treat. Here’s a little extract to whet your appetite. I’ve never read a better portrayal of a man, and there are such men, comfortable with his inner violent self. In a few short paragraphs the language of violence, – the words, the looks, the inner recognition, the Glasgow bar – is revealed: to be read slowly, with a little gravel in your voice.
The scene takes place in a pub owned by a Glasgow ‘heavy’, John Rhodes. Laidlaw has been in to see Rhodes, seeking his support in identifying a rapist and murderer. He, rightly, believes that although Rhodes is a gang lord, he will be repelled by this crime and will agree to help. After Laidlaw has left, Rhodes gets himself another drink and sits down to read his paper. It’s near ‘closing time’, after lunchtime opening (2.30 in the afternoon – in 1977 pubs in Scotland still had very limited hours). The only other people in the bar are the barman and three young men….
They were noisy with drink. It occurred to him they had done everything to get noticed except let off squibs. It was a neutral thought to him. That’s what boys were like.
He read the article about Jennifer Lawson again. He hated that kind of thing. He hated the people who did it. He thought they should be put down, like rabid dogs. But that wouldn’t happen if they caught him. He would get some years in prison or some other place. Steal enough money and they would put you away for thirty years. Kill a girl and they would try to understand. He hated the dishonesty of it. Money bought everything, even the luxury of being able to pretend that everybody really meant well and evil was an accident. He knew different. He had had to, to survive.
His rage came on him suddenly, as it always did, an instinctive reaction he relied on more than any other. Whenever the contradictions became too much for him, that terrible anger was waiting to resolve things into immediacy, confrontation. Its force came from his preparedness always to stand by what he was, at least. It also implied an invitation for everybody else to do the same. That at last, it seemed to him, would be a kind of honesty, for what he hated most were pretences, the lies that people get away with – the lie of being a hard man when you weren’t, the lie of being honest when you weren’t, the lie of believing in the goodness of other people when you didn’t have to face them at their worst. Now he saw the way the courts would handle this case as another kind of pretence. It shouldn’t be allowed. He would like to do something about that.
Charlie was having a problem clearing the bar. The three young men still had some beer in their glasses.
‘Come on now, boys,’ Charlie was saying, ‘Ye’ll have tae go. It’s past time.’
‘Piss off,’ one of the young men said, ‘Ye sold us the stuff. Give us fuckin’ time tae drink it.’
‘Lock us in if ye like,’ another one said, ‘We’ll look after the place for ye.’
They all laughed.
‘John?’ Charlie referred it to him.
‘Give the man a brek boays,’ he said, stil looking at his paper. ‘He’s got his licence tae think o’. Drink up.’
‘Oho,’ the first one said. ‘His master’s voice. Ah don’t see you drinkin’ up.’
John Rhodes looked up at them. They were day-trippers, probably looking for a story they could take back to their mates like a holiday photo. They looked like three but they were really only one, the boy who had spoken first, the one in the green tartan shirt. The other two were running on his engine.
‘Ah work here,’ John Rhodes said. ‘Now on ye go.’
He looked back at his paper.
‘Away tae fuck!’
As soon as the one in the green shirt had said it, they all knew a terrible mistake had been made. There was complete silence for perhaps four seconds. Then John Rhodes’ hands compressed the paper he had been holding into a ball. that crackling was a frightening as an explosion. When he dropped the paper onto the floor, the courage of everybody else in the room went with it.
He crossed very quickly to the doorway. The swing doors had been pinned back to let customers out. He went past them to the the two leaves of the outside door, kicked them shut and pushed home the bolt. He turned back to the pub.
‘Ye want it, ye’ve got it,’ he said, ‘Now ye don’t get out.’
It was already too late for the young men to negotiate the saving of face. he left them no room for that. All they could do was admit their terror to themselves. The shock of it had left one of them struggling for breath.
‘Charlie. Get a mop and a pail o’ watter. For Ah’m gonny batter these bastards up and down this pub.’
‘Now, John. Please, John,’ Charlie said.
The incredible turn-around of the man they had insulted pleading for their safety finished them. One of them whispered, ‘Naw, mister.’ The one with the green shirt was trying not to admit it to himself. But he looked at John Rhodes and knew himself miserable with fear. With the dim light coming in from the small, high windows fuzzing his fair hair, and the blue eyes flaring, he looked like a psychopathic angel.
‘Please. Just let us go. An’ we’ll no’ come back,’ the one with the green shirt said.
There was a pause while John Rhodes wrestled with his own rage. The complete, honest admission of their fear was what finally calmed him.
‘Apologise tae the man,’ he said.
They said it in chorus, ‘We’re sorry’, like a lesson in recitation.
‘And we’re sorr-‘ the one in the green shirt began.
‘Don’t apologise tae me,’ John Rhodes said. ‘As far as Ah’m concerned, ye’re jist on probation.’
He nodded to Charlie. Charlie opened the door to let them out, although it seemed hardly necessary to him. They were so liquid with fear, Charlie felt he could have poured them out below the door.’
Truly, McIlvanney is the man. He admitted near the end of the question/answer session that he is thinking of revisiting Laidlaw. Something to look forward to.
He’s a great advert for Scotland.. and so is this film!!
Glad to see him back on form.
Thanks to Euan for the link!
and here’s the link to the previous film I posted (watch it on my blogpost and miss the rather nasty advert from Paddy Power the bookmaker!):
Geese flying over the Teith
Beautiful day on Sunday.. cycled out along the Carse of Stirling to the Blue Bank Pool where the River Teith, which drains a large part of Central Scotland, runs fast and deep in the midst of fields of golden oats. As we arrived at the stony beach, some geese, honking as if there were no tomorrow, flew over the river and away to the West. Magic.
The weather varies a lot.. well mainly rainy / overcast recently.. but there is a lot to recommend Stirling. I am not going to post a tour guide to Stirling. There is already a large number of good guides available ( Visit Stirling ). It’s more a random selection of photos from the last couple of weeks.
In my recent work at Joan’s social enterprise (Talking Mats) I have had the great hardship of a 15 minute cycle to work up a quiet country road, from which this is the view (obviously without the snow now that we are in July):
view from Ladysneuk Road winter 2011
It runs across the other side of the River Forth, towards the Wallace Monument, then on from there to the University. Phnom Penh it’s not, but that has not stopped me from occasionally performing the Cambodian ‘inside turn’, a neat manouevre on a bike, unfortunately dangerous for any drivers susceptible to irascible road rage, with its attendant risks of heart attacks or temporary blindness caused by a red mist.
Wallace Monument as seen from the River Forth
The centre of Stirling is much like many other small towns, with its indoor shopping mall, ubiquitous charity shops, coffee houses and national chain stores. Most businesses seem to be holding up, despite the bleak economic climate. This store was empty, but the owners have allowed a great use of the display space, with a local primary school displaying photos of all the things that children did to find creative uses of an old newspaper:
Riverside Primary creative newspaper display
shop front
what a good way to use a shop!
I recently paid a visit up to Stirling Castle, one of Scotland’s most visited tourist sites. Although I have taken many groups of pupils, and many visitors, to the castle in the past, this was my first visit for a good while and I was very pleasantly surprised by the additional exhibitions and displays that have been developed recently, particularly around the Royal Palace of James V and the famous ‘Stirling Heads’, oak carvings of famous contemporary and historical figures which decorated the ceiling of the Palace in the 16th Century:
Replica 'heads', painted back to original colour
Only some of the ‘heads’ survive, but this one of Julius Caeasar bears an uncanny resemblance to a 20th Century political figure:
Margaret Thatcher carved in oak 400 years before she was born!
The castle is well worth a visit for its many internal exhibitions, but the interior courtyards and stunning views in all directions make this a full day experience:
The Queen Anne garden
The view west from the palace window
The view east across the river to the Ochils
The view north from the ramparts to the Highlands
This commanding castle site guarded the first point at which the Forth could be crossed in Mediaeval times. The wooden bridge which saw the slaughter inflicted by Wallace and Murray on the occupying English army was replaced in the 15th Century by this stone bridge, which still provides tourists, or locals, with many a pretty picture:
Stirling Bridge
Nice sky too!
I’m still settling.
VSO sent me a questionnaire about my experience as a volunteer the other day. It was easy to reply in positive mode. I believe I gained enormously from the experience. What did I contribute? My drop of water in the development barrel was as important, or unimportant, as any individual contribution, I guess, but I’m still ‘shredding’ it in my mind. Such a complex but fascinating experience.
My days at Talking Mats are now numbered and I will be working at Edinburgh University over the summer. .. maybe I’ll get round to my much postponed Cambodia retrospective then.
First there was the hassle with the jags.. missed deadlines and panic over whether certain vaccines would be available. In the end I have to get my third dose of Jap Encephalitis, Rabies and HepA/B over there. Dr Mullen’s cheery farewell was ‘until you get your third rabies, don’t pat anything hairy with teeth!’ – apparently monkeys are major carriers of rabies, not just dogs!
Then there was the hassle with my knee – what a drag, in more ways than one. I really thought it might not recover after the problems I have had this summer. By the time of the second residential course in Birmingham, I was reduced to taking stairs two feet onto one step and shuffling one foot in front of the other in order to move from A to B. Going up to Anna’ flat from Waverley the night before, I had to weave through the festival revellers with my heavy bags .. I was really struggling. Any kind of twisty lateral movement was sore. But I made it and healing is beginning again.. whether it is going to leave damaged scar tissue as the last time I will have to wait and see.
Then there’s been all the things I thought I would have time to do over the summer – house repairs, garden, visits, Adam’s wedding (very nice – here are a couple of photos:
Then there was the book I had promised Dunedin on ‘values in leadership’, a successsion of articles I had drafted in my head on Scottish education.. oh and a few hundred books to read besides…. but it was never going to happen. I bowed to the inevitable and started pulling back from things last week.. so the final week has been pretty good:
There’s been a lot of preparation,with my daily dose of Khmer, the various online materials and all the reading for Cambodia. In among times, I have made time for saying ‘bye for now’: meal out with the Riverside boys / Jim and John on Wed; meal out with the Lornshill senior team Friday; meal out at Anna’s Saturday; friends round for drinks Sunday; day in Glasgow with Joan Monday. We went to see the Glasgow Boys exhibition – I really enjoyed it (http://www.glasgowlife.org.uk/museums/our-museums/kelvingrove/whats-on/exhibitions/glasgow-boys/Pages/default.aspx )
I also took some photos on my VADO to show people over there something of our capital city Edinburgh at festival time. Here’s a typical street entertainment – these dancers from Zimbabwe are trying to generate a bit more custom for their show:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0qHGZklueM
Joan was enjoying herself wandering around the centre of Edinburgh as you can see here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGDmm8Hy81o
I’ll be taking little Leinad here with me to Cambodia. He’s a cute little guy and he’s much more scared than I am of the flight.
He’ll have his own column on the blog, I hope.. just need to wait and see what’s possible. I don’t know if there’s enough of the kind of food a Lion needs out there. He types really slowly and tells me that his contributions will be short and to the point, unlike mine!
Danny Murphy's Blog 