A nation again: Independence can bring peace to a troubled island

 

By Gerry Singh

 

Independence for Scotland and England can bring peace to a troubled island

 

I RECENTLY drove south on the M74 heading to the Lake District, that beautiful part of Cumbria, to do some walking in the hills and stroll by the lakeshore of Ullswater.

I imagined approaching the border sign that said “Welcome to England where all the power lies” and suddenly felt ­diminished. After a week of excellent walking I drove back north and imagined a sign that said “Welcome to Scotland where your vote doesn’t count” and felt a sinking feeling of inferiority.

Then I thought: what must it be like to wake up in a country where self-determination was as ­natural as rainfall or sunlight, whether you are English or ­Scottish? It was then that my heart soared. Not just for myself. But for all of the people of these islands who surely have the right to take whatever path up the hill they choose, and not have to feel separate.

Here are some words I don’t like: Nationalism, ­Unionism, Separatist and Imperialism.

It seems to me that a binary choice between holding the British state together at all costs and shouting for independence from the rooftops is a false dichotomy.

Scotland and England will always be one land mass and it is becoming increasingly obvious that self-determination is the desire of both countries. If the people want that then they should not be frustrated by politicians clinging to a historical idea whose time is simply running out. History shows that all empires fail in the end and that new beginnings like green shoots will emerge just as the sun shines brighter ­after the rain.

In this year, 2021AD, we are the luckiest people to live on an island where we can make history in a peaceful and mature way and allow a transition to ­occur that is in the best interests of all without conflict, violence, bloodshed or bitterness, which so many other peoples around the world have had to suffer in their efforts towards self-determination.

Scotland and England are mature democracies with an abundance of wealth in resources, people and invention. We are rich beyond the dreams of many poorer countries and it must be our humane duty to attempt to distribute that wealth a little more fairly.

I can imagine an English parliament for England, a Scottish parliament for Scotland and a Welsh parliament for Wales without one dominating the others.

This does not have to be seen as a loss of identity but rather a reinforcement of identity. If you feel ­British rather than Scottish that does not have to change. Just as Sweden, Norway and Denmark are independent countries under the overarching name of Scandinavia. It is what you feel, not what is imposed upon you, that is real. You cannot force a British identity on people who do not feel it. Flag-waving only antagonises and causes division and its overtones are sinister. We have to seek to be more enlightened than that.

I believe at this point in our shared history that an independent England is just as important a part of a new dispensation as an independent Scotland. We cannot afford to let the uglier aspects of nationalism that Brexit has unleashed flourish because of a ­perceived enemy as the SNP are currently portrayed in the media. As Bob Dylan wrote, “the darkest night is just before the dawn”. I think that the present Tory government are in danger of taking us all into a very dark place no matter where you live in Britain.

The truth is that Scotland is and always will be an independent country. All we are looking for is to have that ratified and written into a ­constitution that legalises the concept of self-determination and self-government. The same rule should apply to England and Wales. Ireland is a more complex problem for obvious historical reasons – partition having created a particular ­difficulty to overcome.

If Scotland had the power to ­completely govern itself, just think what a legacy of enhanced self-esteem we would be ­handing over to our children and grandchildren. Self-esteem and self-worth are not side issues, or subordinate to ­economic ­considerations, but are ­absolutely ­integral in establishing a culture of agency and self-belief that does not depend on being in opposition to a larger neighbour that for too long has reflected back at us a ­stereotype of ourselves as dependent and in need of subsidies. We could finally ditch the term “Auld Enemy” and start to view our neighbour as a friend.

 

IF the British state as it is currently behaving under the present government was a marriage, it would represent one of coercive control where psychological bullying and put-downs are the most obvious example of this abusive relationship, followed by love-bombing to win us back. These are classic features of domestic abuse when one partner seeks to control and disempower the other. Just as domestic abuse is now widely accepted as a crime and can be more subtle than raising a fist, nations can also be guilty of engaging in similar practices.

As a people we have to unlock the mind-forged manacles that keep us ­captive in an unhealthy relationship for fear of ­reprisal that came at us under the guise of Project Fear.

Scotland running its own affairs has never been about narrow ­nationalism. I am mixed race and I was born in ­Glasgow. My father, who I lost before I was two years old, was Indian. My ­mother was white Scottish with Irish ancestry. ­Unable to care for me when my father deserted us, she put me into a children’s home the day after my second birthday. She never came back.

Why do I mention such personal ­trauma in an essay about Scottish ­independence? Maybe it is because I ­believe nations can suffer similar traumas that keep them from acting confidently in their own ­interests. The Highland Clearances are an obvious wound to the psyche, as was forced migration. The decimation of heavy industry in the Thatcher era was another. The inequalities that have been deliberately orchestrated have made food banks a normal fact of life – a situation that should be completely unacceptable in any civilised country as rich as we are. It doesn’t have to be this way.

India gained its independence after 200 years of colonial rule that robbed that country blind. My lost father was a victim of the partition of India that cost the lives of a million people and left tens of ­millions displaced. India is now an ­economic powerhouse. They had grown used to accepting imperial rule and all the propaganda that came with it that classed the Indian as somehow less able than a British person. It was not true then and it is not true now.

Crowds at New Delhi watching a motorcade on Indian Independence Day

As someone who was orphaned at an early age and suffered my share of racial abuse I have a country that has looked after me in adulthood. With one hand tied behind its back, Scotland gave me an excellent education, despite failing at school because of adverse childhood ­experiences. I went to university and taught some of the most disadvantaged children in a poor catchment area. It shocked me to see how pervasive poverty was and still is. With full powers I truly believe that Scotland can do better than this.

READ MORE: Sikhs worldwide to take part in referendum on Punjab independence

The British state is now ­dominated by two parties slavishly beholden to ­unrestrained market forces and ­privatisation. I do not believe that the ­majority of people in these islands signed up for that.

What Scotland wants is social ­democratic accountability and ­proportional representation. We already have the latter in the bag.

I want to live in a country where the people are sovereign and where the economy and land use will one day reflect the needs of all of its people so that the scourge of generations of poverty may at last have a chance of being eradicated. I am not looking for or expecting to see some utopian society suddenly ­emerging, but what I think we all have a right to ­expect is that politics serves the many and not the few.

I think that without self-government Scotland and England will together be ­diminished and it is the poorest in ­society who will pay the price. I think that we all have to rise above our own perceived ­economic interests, especially if we ­happen to be doing OK. The reality is that if we do not then it is future generations who will suffer as the obscene levels of wealth being amassed by a few individuals further erode civilised values.

Think not of yourself, but look to your grandchildren and imagine what future they might have on a planet slowly sinking into a climate emergency, while the super-rich continue sunning themselves on their $20 million yachts. The status quo is not an option. Nothing worth ­having comes easy. Not in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to go to ­university, but I did. Sacrifices had to be made. I washed pots and pans in a very hot hotel kitchen for two years while studying to get the grades necessary.

Of course there will be hurdles to overcome in reaching any worthwhile goal. One of the first hurdles may well be changing your mind. We all cling on to the beliefs that have served us well up to now and there is no doubting the ­reality of tribal loyalties in terms of for and against any big issue of the day.

Maybe for the first time in your life you are thinking of voting in a way that you could not have imagined a few years ago. Changing your mind requires an act of courage, and to visualise something good in what had previously been considered to be misguided can be an uplifting ­experience.

 

Instead of a mythical Union ­symbolised by a flag that is trumpeted by Brexiteers, who paradoxically despise the ­European Union, we could have a real union of ­people living together as friends and ­family just as we have always done. The difference being that the political path of Scotland and England will be determined by the people and not by elites making policy in their own interests with little concern for the population.

ONE of the greatest leaps of imagination to arise out of the suffering of the Second World War was the creation of the National Health Service. Much of the medical profession was against it at the time. Now that same profession is trying to save it. How vital that institution has been during this pandemic. Yet there are dark forces, if the political status quo remains, who are working tirelessly to dismantle and destroy it in order to open it up to further privatisation to amass more profits for the already wealthy at the expense of the rest of us. If that happens it will be a tragedy and a deliberate attack on civilised values and would render the term “British values” redundant because there will be no such thing.

The NHS saved my life. I had a heart attack in my mid-40s and thought that my number was up. Complete strangers ­dedicated to saving my life did just that. There was no charge. It was free at the point of delivery.

As an orphan boy I am here today ­because of humane public services like free education and health care. Isn’t that something worth changing your mind for?

A vote for independence and we will all be free at the point of delivery. Not only that, but your grandchildren will be proud of you for “screwing your courage to the sticking place”.

Nobody can predict the future. All we have to go on is our experience of the past and ask ourselves: How can I help create a better world for future generations? And in attempting to create that better world, wouldn’t you rather have the ­power in your own hands?

When Scotland does become self-governing, I hope to be around to once again drive down the M74 over an ­invisible border and follow that thread of tarmac back into the Cumbrian hills in that beautiful part of England. Nothing will have changed. Yet everything will have. I will imagine a sign saying “Welcome to England, Old Friend”, and when I gaze out from the hilltops, having persevered through wind and rain, the view of the lake will stun me with its grace and ­beauty. Standing there on the highest peak I will imagine returning north and a new sign will greet me with the words “Welcome to Scotland, Welcome Home”.

How returning the Stone of Destiny led to decades of repercussions

 

Stone of Destiny at Arbroath Abbey, 1951

SCOTLAND has always had a tradition of stories, legends and myths which have given sustenance to history and identity. One of the most evocative over the years has been that of the recovery of the Stone of Destiny on Christmas Day in 1950 – the 70th anniversary of which is next week.

The Stone of Destiny has an important role in Scottish, English and British history; it even has different names and is known in official royal circles as “the Coronation Stone” and also as “the Stone of Scone”. It was used to crown Scottish kings and queens in ancient times, was taken by the English Edward I in 1296, and used to crown English and then British monarchs. In the mystery and mumbo jumbo of all things monarchical, the Stone – which came to reside in Westminster Abbey was seen to possess mystical powers that were transferred to the monarch in the coronation ceremony. This mythical and magical powers were thus viewed as almost transcendental.

Many Scots had long thought that the Stone should be returned to Scotland – given the way it was taken from Scotland by force. Over the years many thought about ways to bring it back, and some even hatched and contemplated various plans which did not come to fruition including one such ill-fated venture from Hugh MacDiarmid where he blew the funds he raised to undertake his plan in a pub.

In December 1950 that changed, when a group of Glasgow University students decided to act – led by Ian Hamilton and his co-conspirators Gavin Vernon, Alan Stuart and Kay Matheson. Ian, now aged 95, is the last alive.

The timing of the act is important. This was the height of the appeal of Britain. The Second World War had recently concluded. The post-war ­Labour Government had just established the NHS, ­nationalised utilities, embarked on a huge housing ­programme and championed full employment. But at the same time there was an element of Scottish discontent with the scale of centralisation and the National Covenant showed significant popular support for home rule. A whole host of young radicals felt that something had to be done.

On a cold winter day the four began their 18-hour drive south from Glasgow to London in two Ford Anglias. After various reconnaissance trips to and around the Abbey they succeeded, as Christmas Eve became Christmas Day, by breaking open a side door to the Abbey. There they removed the stone from the coronation chair, in the process dropping and damaging the stone. They then evaded the authorities, and by a circuitous route brought the stone back north to Scotland.

Ian Hamilton says now of his actions: “My prime qualification was that I did not know my place. I ­never have” – a powerful attitude in what in 1950 was a very deferential Scotland and Britain. He ­reflects on the past and the Scotland of 2020: “I didn’t have any place. Scotland is unique in the British Isles – and I use that term including Ireland. Anyone becomes a Scot who comes to live among us, and becomes one of us.”

The taking of the Stone was a national and global story. Most of the Scottish press were sympathetic to its taking, with Ludovic Kennedy observing in 1995: “The only Scottish paper to disapprove of what had happened was the strongly anglophile Glasgow ­Herald which saw the incident as anti-monarchical”. One Scottish journalist at the time, Wilfred Taylor, wrote of the act: “Nobody was done any harm, and even those whose religious sentiments were so violently upset made a splendid recovery.”

The Guardian reported the story when it broke in the following tones: “One ­theory is that the thieves – or from the point of view of certain Scotsmen, “liberators” – hid in a chapel overnight in readiness for their coup… Descriptions of them have been circulated, and the police say they speak with Scottish accents. It is taken for granted that the Stone has been stolen by Scottish Nationalists.”

A newsreel of the time entitled The Missing Coronation Stone talked of the removal of the Stone as the work of “extreme Scottish nationalists” but then calmly observed: “Many Scotsmen feel that the removal of their Stone of Destiny may be a gesture to stir up Scottish sentiment for home rule.” It then concluded by citing John MacCormick’s desire for home rule, and Labour MP David Kirkwood’s 1924 bill which proposed bringing the Stone back to Scotland and which was defeated in the Commons by 201 to 171.

Neal Ascherson reflected on the sentiment of Scots then: “The Christmas break-in at the Abbey electrified people in Scotland, because it was cheeky and patriotic and put right an old wrong – but also because the Stone had prompted an authentically Scottish act” which was not the act of a committee of the great and good, but four young people taking action. It also showed to James Mitchell of Edinburgh University that ‘“he Stone’s symbolic significance was at least as great for the British authorities as for Scottish nationalists”.

The then Labour Government discussed the matter at the highest level. Attorney General Hartley Shawcross presented the different options open to government to the cabinet of Clement Attlee. He stated that any prosecution of those who took the Stone might not lead to a conviction in a jury trial and might be counter-productive, commenting: “I am satisfied that a prosecution would do no good except perhaps to the ­defendants to whom it would give the opportunity of being regarded as martyrs if they were convicted or as heroes if they were ­acquitted.”

Events moved quickly. The Stone was returned by the group who arranged for it to be taken to Arbroath Abbey on April 11, 1951 – a historic choice given the ­Declaration of Arbroath of 1320. The cabinet expressed the view that any concessions could set a precedent, and encourage self-government movements around the world and such claims as the Elgin Marbles in the British Museum.

The Scottish Secretary of State, Hector McNeil, was tasked with writing a memorandum for the government on the future location of the Stone. His paper included an appendix by Henry Meikle, Historiographer Royal for Scotland arguing that under the terms of the Treaty of ­Northampton of 1328 there was an obligation to return the Stone to Scotland. McNeil identified three options – leaving the Stone in Westminster Abbey; returning it to Scotland for custody between coronations; and displaying it in different Commonwealth countries, with his ­preference for the second.

The ruminations of government at the same time were shaped by the October 1951 general election and return of the Conservatives under Churchill. At the same time, anxieties began to rise about King George VII and what would happen when he passed away and the future coronation of Elizabeth. All of this aided avoidance of any dramatic action by the establishment, no charges being brought and the Stone being placed in ­Westminster Abbey.

The story though did not end there – ­either in Arbroath or the 1953 coronation. Rather it grew and became a mythical story; an account of Scottish cheekiness, ingenuity and standing up to authority and for Scotland. The 1950s were the most British of decades with, in 1955, the Tories winning over half the vote in Scotland and Labour winning most of the other half. The cause of self-government seemed to have extinguished itself in the era of “you’ve never had it so good”.

The story of the Stone not only became legendary, it kept alight an account of Scottish difference and defiance. It ­became something passed down through generations, told with a twinkle in the eye by those who recounted it. It became a counter-story in the 1950s – along with the 1953 John MacCormick court case and the defacing of Elizabeth II post boxes. James Mitchell states: “It created a new myth or at least contributed to a sense that Scotland was different and in this at least its legacy was greater than the Covenant.”

The Stone returned to Scotland in ­November 1996 – 700 years on from ­Edward I removing it – brought back over the border at Coldstream at the instigation of the Secretary of State for Scotland Michael Forsyth in the dying days of the Tory administration of John Major. From there it travelled to Edinburgh, where various tests were undertaken to prove it was the actual Stone (and not one of the many alleged fakes to bamboozle authorities) and then it was placed in Edinburgh Castle with onlookers underwhelmed and one banner declaring: “Scotland Asked for a Parliament and Got a Stone.”

Whatever symbolism it once had, which some thought translated into political power, the latter had now long gone as the unreformed Westminster system of governing Scotland had discredited itself – and the vast majority of Scots wanted real power and a real Parliament.

Even at the time some astute observers recognised the importance of what happened. Moray McLaren wrote just after the episode that “this daring removal of this Scottish Stone of Scone from the heart of the English capital drew literally worldwide attention to something unexpected which had been going on in Scotland for some time” and that was the emergence of a different “spirit” and ­“independent air”.

Hamilton reflecting back now on these tumultuous events comments: “Seventy years ago it was a symbol. But we don’t need symbols now, because we’ve very nearly got the reality of Scottish independence. I don’t consider that retrieving my country’s property was breaking the law. After all, the Home Secretary said at the time that we would not be prosecuted. He referred to us as ‘these vulgar vandals’ and that has been one of my favourite phrases ever since.”

In his account of the episode The Taking of the Stone of Destiny Ian said of his motives: “Nobody sang in Scotland in the middle part of this century. To be more correct, those who sang did not derive their songs from Scotland.” He now says at the age of 95 about the Stone and the present: “It is an icon. A nation needs icons. [But] we are now voting for things that I dreamed of 50 years ago.”

He looks over his adult life: “I am the last person to make any assessment of that [the Stone]. I suppose the fact that people speak to me and reference it means that it has an importance.” He says he has always baulked at being described and remembered as “the Stone man” and that he lived “a busy life in which it was one small part”, stating: “I am fond of my profession (in law) and proud to be a QC. And I think that in many respects outweighs what I did with the Stone.”

The return of the Stone was a romantic adventure but it was also an expression of romantic and symbolic nationalism that played at least some part in the revival of a more political nationalism. All nationalisms and movements need symbols, stories and mythologies with which they can make a sense of history. Such romantic politics do not ultimately address power, but on the other hand political power without emotional resonance can descend into stale managerialism.

The account of the Stone is one of the great stories of Scotland. But the difference is that this one connected the ancient myths of Scotland to the modern day. Part of this is mythology and remaking history but then such continual reinterpretation of the past is always an element of the present.

It is also a story with many layers and interpretations – as all good stories have – which cannot be shoehorned into one version. Mitchell recalls that it was presented at the time as “a bit of fun and a classic case of student politics” to downplay the serious aspects, while another aspect that was rarely acknowledged was that it had “an obvious monarchist dimension” – as well as to others an obvious “republican angle”.

The nationalist account is one powerful version of this story but other interpretations should not be glossed over.

Symbols have a potency but Ian is more aware than most that they should be used not for diversions but to aid substantive change.

He reflects on the Scotland he sees before him, that he modestly concedes he had an impact in aiding: “It is a very free society. My generation are handing over something so much better than we inherited.

“I would like to think the Stone of Destiny played a small part in that.”

Up Helly Aa festival in Shetland

 

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Scotland

Up Helly Aa festival in Shetland – in pictures 4

 

The annual Up Helly Aa festival celebrates the influence of the Scandinavian Vikings in Shetland and culminates with the setting on fire of their galley in the evening

Joanna Ruck and Arnel Hecimovic

 

• Participants dressed as Vikings eat breakfast as they prepare to participate in the annual Up Helly Aa festival

  Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

• Members of the Jarl Squad before the start of the parade through the streets in Lerwick

  Photograph: Jane Barlow/PA

   

  

• The Guizer Jarl is the main character in the celebration, and the Jarl Squad comprises supporters

  Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

• A good breakfast is important

  Photograph: Andy Buchanan/AFP/Getty Images

   

  

• A boy waits for the rest of the squad

• Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

  
  And they are off on the march

• Photograph: Jane Barlow/PA

   

  

  
  The Guizer Jarl and his squad. A person must be on a special committee for 15 years before they can be a Jarl – and each year just one person is elected to it

• Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

  
  A replica galley – a type of ship – is built every year for the festival

• Photograph: Jane Barlow/PA

   

  

  
  Children march through the streets of Lerwick

• Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

  
  The Jarl Squad marching

• Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

  
  The squad stand on the galley after the march

• Photograph: Jane Barlow/PA

   

  

  
  When the sun sets, it’s time for the procession …

• Photograph: Jane Barlow/PA

   

  

  
  … which is when the galley is dragged through the streets

• Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

  
  Torchbearers are all the various squads’ members, and are led by the Jarl Squad

• Photograph: Andy Buchanan/AFP/Getty Images

   

  

  
  Following the procession, the torchbearers form a circle around the galley and sing a traditional song …

• Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

  
  … before throwing their torches on to the replica ship

• Photograph: Jane Barlow/PA

   

  

  
  The burning of the galley marks the end of the celebration …

• Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

  
  … but the festivities continue long in to the night

• Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

   

  

   

Écosse: Bientôt les couilles libres sous le kilt – Charlie Hebdo 2016

 

 

First Snow

Finally!  The first snow…in February!  In Minnesota there was always snow in October and it practically stayed until spring.  In Colorado it was sunny all the time but when it snowed, it was usually a blizzard and heavy. It was usually gone in a day or two.  I was shocked to see a blanket of snow on the ground this morning having sighed over the wait since last October!  It isn’t the kind that will stay, but it was still exciting to see whiteness.  Husband cursed.  I think he is just used to cursing at snow because of the trucking years and the hell of driving in it.

I took advantage of it and photographed Rosey watching Husband trudge off to work.  Then I could not resist taking more photo’s outside, even though it was 5:30 in the morning.

Gads, snowball fights.  I can’t take them anywhere without trouble.

Yesterday was an interesting day too.  It suddenly got very dark about 2 in the afternoon, so suddenly that I got up to see what was going on. It just looked like it was going to rain, so I closed the blinds as it keeps the heat in better.  A few minutes later, I thought we had mice running up and down the walls, I even went into the kitchen to check out the strange noise, but it was HAIL! 

 

Tiny pellets, granted, but still honest to goodness hail.  It then immediately gusted powerful winds and snow flurries…and within a minute, changed to sunshine.  I never moved from the window…it all happened before I could comprehend that the weather here in Scotland ACTUALLY CHANGED.  So short lived it was, that I figured I only imagined it.  In April it will be a year since we have been here and there has only been one kind of weather…rain.  Sunshine was as rare as they come.

It’s so rare I cannot resist photographing it.  Look…REAL sunshine!  Amazing.  But don’t get any ideas.  In the time it took to upload these photo’s, it’s back to normal….

Dark, dreary and, why yes, funny you should ask…..raining.

RESIDENCY!

Finally, the paperwork was returned yesterday and my passport was stamped with right to remain….my residency!

This is what it looks like, it’s actually a sticker type thing.  This is good for 5 years. 

I have a couple of photo’s from Ib’s Christmas party at work.  You can see the rye bread I made on the plate:

All Danes celebrating with plenty of good food, snaps and beer.  All probably really missing their home by now.  I think it may be harder for the young ones to be isolated in Greenock, not really an exciting party place.  A few live in Glasgow, but as it is for Ib, the commute is expensive.  I don’t think many stay past their initial contracted time.

Today I head to the local surgery to bring my application for health care.  My national insurance number also arrived.  It’s a pretty important day for me, I am very much relieved all is in order.

First Snow in Scotland

Then came the workmen to tear up the streets and they were at it all day, loud jack hammers and machinery….we were frazzled by the end of the day from the constant noise.

I don’t know, seems odd to us for the town to plant palm trees in November and patch pot holes in December, but I guess it is just a different rhythm. 

Dean-y Baby lights the advent candle every day and sings a couple of Christmas carols.  I can’t remember what I brought for Christmas decorations, I think it was just a few things, will have to get them unpacked and start the month long celebration!

Ib just needs to get better, poor guy is down with a heck of a cold.  Then it’s party time!

Sparks Flying!

Saturday was the annual lighting of the local Christmas tree and fireworks.  Here is the town hall and the Christmas tree.  This is about 4:15pm.

Santa was there too!

Here is the back of the town hall from our window on a foggy morning for a comparison of our location.

We live right behind the town hall and now realise that we could have just watch from our window or stand outside our door to see them, which we will definitely do next year.  I bet there were people standing outside the Burns Howff having a brew and watching too!  But this being our first time we herded with most of the town’s people to the high street area and it took 45 minutes for the fireworks and tree lighting to start.  We were freezing in the bitter cold and were prevented from returning home as the whole area was blocked to keep anyone from getting hurt with the fireworks fallout.  With heavy coat, gloves and a scarf, I was shivering and my toes and fingers got numb.  It was unpleasant standing and waiting, as we did not know what to expect.  I was worried there were going to be speeches or something long and drawn out.

The tree lighting was unimpressive, the fireworks were fabulous though, unlike any I had ever seen before as they were different shapes and styles.  If you make it through the video (I know videos of fireworks are not as interesting as being there), you’ll see the Christmas tree and husband videoing with his camera.  There was also a different kind of fireworks which unfortunately do not show well on my camera, but are cascading over the wall to the sidewalk like a waterfall.  Well done!  I didn’t manage to film the big ending, as my fingers froze and the camera was starting to shake from my shivering.

Fireworks

There was also some sort of party to go along with this; earlier in the day children had a special art project time at the town hall and then after the fireworks there were jugglers, Santa, a bouncing house and carnival foods, balloons and the sort.  We rushed home though it was too cold to mess about and there were way too many children!  lol…..seems to be an abundance of children in this town, but it was fun to see them so excited and happy.

Curtains, Curry, Clouds, Eggs and a Surprise

The 99 pence curtains I bought (£10 with the postage) were Ikea mushroom curtains, which I chose for the length and width, although there was no mention of a third panel.  The seller did say they were sun faded.  I was fine with that, I just needed something to block the icy chill from the window at night.  So here they are as received.  They had a web hem (iron on stuff) and the hem goes up past the window sill, drooping and coming undone in places too.  No problem, I planned on hemming them anyways.  Thankfully they were freshly washed and smelled great.  The condition of the fabric was wonderful, no holes, stains or wear.  Just the bit of fading.

Here you can see the above photo without flash and see the huge hem.  The top darkness are the black shades.  Also, the sun fades show up with a greenish tone in the see-through light but not on close up inspection, which is really bizarre.  I wasn’t sure if it was the out door lighting or what.  Not really noticeable, more like one of those things that once you do notice it, it bothers you.  This is an easy fix, I’ll simply bleach them or dye them.  But I don’t want to do anything until I am sure of the final result I want.  Probably tackle it the next time they need washing.

This is the web stuff.  Nice, it was very easy to pull the hem down.  This is also the colour of them, very pale and neutral.

I then pinned the first panel’s hem to the floor length, took them all down, ironed the first panel, hemming it with a fairly large basting stitch and hanging it up right away to keep it from getting wrinkled again.  I carefully measured the exact width of the hem on the second panel and did the same.  When I hung it up I got to cussing like a sailor!  It was 5 inches shorter than the first panel!  I grabbed my measuring tape and measured the first panel’s hem, and they were both exactly 13 inches.  Apparently this third panel was a completely different starting length!  Sigh, I should have pinned them all while hanging.  So I ironed and hung up the last panel and waited until this morning to finish up.  I was too tired to fuss with it.

I got the ironing board out this morning and after cutting the thread to the short panel, I pinned it to the right length and used the ironing board to twist the curtain and lay the hem across so I could sew it.  I added tuppence to each corner and one in the middle with a few stitches to keep them in place.

All hemmed now.  I increased my saturation on the photo uploading software and yep…there is a greenish colour and it is more tan in the place where the old hem was.  Oh well.  I’ll fix that issue another day.

The next problem was the tie backs.  I received two matching fabric ones, which were fine, but what about the middle panel?  So as I searched through my stash of sewing stuff and project stuff, I found three very small bungee cords!  I could use the old blinds hook already in place.  All I had to do was add a tiny cup hook to the middle wood piece and use the bungee cords as tie backs.  Granted they are way too high, I would have preferred a window sill height tie back, but this is a rented flat that I am not keen on changing too much.  This lets the light in just fine and it is easy to undo at night-time.  That tightly of a pull back will wrinkle the heck out of the curtains, but it’ll do.

Now that I passed my curtains test, here’s the wonderful curry hot pot I made last night. 

Kebab meat, meatballs, potatoes, carrots, onion, broccoli and a tikka masala curry paste mixed with left over brown gravy and coconut milk and extra garlic. 

The eggs for breakfast this morning were tiny!  It was like quail eggs.  They don’t sort the eggs here by size.  We buy a carton that has 15 eggs and they are all different sizes, from huge to tiny.

Weird and pretty cloud formations yesterday:

(and I know you are dying to know, but yes, it did rain.)

And here goes…..

I bought our very first UK Christmas decoration! Surprise!

A calendar candle and pine cone holder.  99 pence for the lot, they tickled me to no end.  Now, please SNOW!

November is Almost Gone!

I am behind in updating, I know.

Happy Thanksgiving

to Bente, Mike, Joseph, Brandon, Mikey, Ryah, Mom, Dad, Grams, Bill and Maria!

November is a nice month, Dad celebrates the Marine Corps birthday, Bente and Mike get the children home from school all day and I get to age.

A lovely card, thistle brooch and a bottle of port from husband along with a rocking chair he bought for me that we picked up a few days earlier:

I love to rock and knit!  Thanks, my love!

Since Ib worked, the plan was for him to bring home fish and chips for dinner. I made a salad to go with it and we shared a bottle of Guinness.  This fish is from our local Dominic’s and I have to say it was fabulous!  Sorry I took the photo after we started eating, so it is not as pretty as it should be!

I sipped my port with loads of old film noir and enjoyed it all.

My parents sent me a much needed shawl to go over my shoulders in this Scottish wet penetrating cold.  I love it, as it is light weight but perfectly warm.  Thanks!

Nothing else to mention, so I will just update a bit with recent photo’s:

Foggy morning.

The local cinema, now a bingo hall.  Just down the street from us. 

There are two of these statues on High Street.  They came from the original local mansion, Blythewood that is now gone.  See in the background the STUPID plants and palm trees they planted in NOVEMBER????  Waste of money.

Last week in front of this, they put up the Christmas tree!  There are actually two, one is down on the cross.  It will be decorated or lit up on the 24th, so I will take more photo’s then. 

This photo is taken next to the town hall, where I am on my way to the grocery shop that is in the left side building.  Behind me is our flat, to the left of where I am standing is the fish and chip shop.  I have the zoom lens on, so it’s a little distorted for the exact spot I am standing.  I just wanted to point out that this is the most common route I walk to the shops.

Oh, and did I mention it was raining?

Nicely shaped tree.

Poppies placed for Remembrance Day.  Ib took this photo, I need to go over and find the name I found an obituary for in my search for things happening on Fulbar street.

And just a few more lovelies….