Reid invelopes

Weel, aat’s aa the reid invelopes teemt fir anither ‘ear. As if! A’m nae the kind o quine faa his tae worry aboot ower mony cairds fir Valentine’s!
Mines is nae really a hoose o heirts an flooers, ye ken. Nae complainin – ma man’s qwate an romantic in his ain wye. In hunners o wyes he mair than maks up fir nae chocolates. Mebbies like maist Scots men?
A mean, he is nae as bad as some McRomeos A ken o. A ken een faa geed his wife flooers – self-raisin, plain an wholemeal – ae ‘ear. A ken anither faa geed a quine a pokie o seeds an telt her tae growe her ain. Mine their mairrit noo, as far’s A ken, sae he maun hae makit up fir it. Best ava micht be the mannie faa stertit his proposal wi, “Kin ye mak chips?” an syne said, “Ye’ll dee!” faan she did an he wintit tae “seal the deal.”
But I micht be beein ower hard on oor men. Burns screived “A Reid, Reid Rose” an “Ae Fond Kiss”: twa o the maist romantic poems ivver. An he wisnae alane.The Scots Language Centre his sangs and poems be Scots, in Scots:… an Aabodie kens The Proclaimers 500 Miles an aw. An faa kin forget Gregory’s feel pals in Gregory’s Girl? Mine, yon’s anither een wi mair nor a touch o comedy. Are oor men better wi jokes nor romance? Mair comedy nor Casanova? Quines, if ye dinnae lauch ye’ll greet!
But fit if it’s nae the mannies’ wyte? It micht hae somethin tae dee wi wir leid. It is Germanic. A’v aye winnert if A cuid be sweipit aff ma feet be a mannie soughin “Ich leibe dich” inno ma lug. Ye’d be ower splootert wi slaivers tae be enamoured be yon!
Haud oan though, A’m nae gaun doon the road o “we dinnae hae the wirds.” We maun hae them – Scots is a leid same’s oany ither. A wis fair chuffed tae see “wurds fir love” onno a Facebook Doric page nae sae lang syne. Hooiver, gie quick-like it aa descendit intae mair fairm-yaird nor boudoir. Noo dinnae gang an try an find it – it wid gaur yer hair curl. Thir’s mair romance aboot William Morrice Wilson’s Spick Aboot …Coortin. Or is there? “It’s Scotch love – aye fechtin”? disnae soond lik love tae me.
Mibbes we hiv forgotten the wirds, like sae monie ithers, fir lack o yaisin them. Mair practise is fit we are needin.
An Richt eneuch, it taks twa tae tango. A’m nae sae sure A’m fit oany Romeo wid luik fir. The ae time ma man did come in the door wi flooers A speirt, “Fit hiv ye deen?” in a wye that wid brak oany lichtbulb o romantic thocht in ae heirtbeat. An birslt cotton is mair eese in Scotland in February than satin is ivver gaun tae be.
Aye, romance is nae deid… it’s jist cooried doon tae bide cosie throwe the cauld.

Burns is By…

Weel, at’s Burns Nicht by wi for anither ‘ear. Tae say A hiv a mixter-maxter o feelins wid nae be wrang. Burns maks ma prood tae be a Scot. He is kent an mindit the warld ower. He wis far aheed o his time in mony wyes an his themes are aye relevant the day. He scrieved things that will aye be mindit, makin the Scots leid, aye an the English ane tae, dee bonnie, unco things. Like a mannie capin sheep, he cuid gaur wirds dee fitiver he wintit.

Maist ivvry bairn in the country his been “deein Scots” ower the heids o Burns. Richt eneuch – it’s oor birth-richt. Bit…foo mony o them his learnt a poem wi nae understaundin o context or meanin? (There’s monies the adult fa cannae staun Burns fay sic an experience.) Foo mony o them willnae spik anither word o Scots until neist January, faan it is time tae wheech Burns oot again? Foo mony o them will think Scots dee’t wi Burns an isnae really pairt o their daily day?

It wid be afa fine if ilka bairn cuid leave the schuil kennin fit Auld Lang Syne means, an foo tae sing the wirds the richt gate. Mair fine still if they cuid yaise the leid an mak it boo til their needs, withoot bein feart or afrontit.

There’s them thit hiv Burns haised up abeen mortal men an cannae see by him. Fit wid Burns dee gin he were alive ayenoo? He wid be scrievin for bairns as weel as growen ups – there’s a mairket for thon noo thit didnae exist in his day. He wid be yaisin words like “council telly” and scrievin aboot female ordination, nuclear wappons an the state o the roads. He wid wint Scots tae be a livin, sonsie leid, for ilka pairt o wir lives – nae jist for poetry.

I winner tae fit he’d mak o the microwaveable haggis. It’s nae the same, addressin the cauld, shrunklt, peelie-wally puddin afore ye skin it tae haet it in the “pie haeter”. Bit fan there is jist the twa o yese in the hoose (forby the pussy bawdrons, fa disnae get haggis bar a snuff), it maks life mair than a thochtie easier. Aye Burns wid haud wi that an aw. Tae see the common man (or wifie) a sicht less trauchled wid faa richt intil his barra, A’m sure.

Time wis, as a student, A telt ma Irish freen tae gang ontae Union Street an speir atony passin wise-like wifie faar tae buy a haggis. The een A’d gaed her cam fae the best butcher in Macduff – best for haggis. The auld dear she speirit fairly proved her worth: she telt her the butcher ower the wye wis guid for maist things, but for haggis she shid gang roon an ben til anither een aathegither. For nae ivvry haggis is created equal. The advice wis guid, an ma pal’s mammie fair enjoyed the pudding faan she tried it.

Thon days is lang by. For there’s nae ae butcher in Macduff noo, niver mind ane faa’s better than anither. An ivery supermairket his guid eneuch haggis noo – like faist food, the same in ilka toon.

So the ‘ear’s mairchin awa. We hiv nae hope bit tae mairch wi it or we’ll be tracked intil the stoor an dubs forby. An the warld gangs roon an Burns is mindit. Bit mine iss – Scots is fir ilka day, nae jist for Burns nicht. It’s time is comin yet, for aa that!

Bio Poem

Braw, bletherie and bosiesome
Education Scotland Scots Language Co-ordinator
Loves the leid and learnin
Fair chuffed tae heeze it, yaise it an hear it
Afa feart we winnae yaise it, respect it an we’ll lose it
Fa learnt tae scrieve blogs, in Scots
Fa kens she can dee nae mair nor get better
in Dundee