The Blog Investigates is a fearless investigative reporter whose first published work and investigations were for the Buchan Observer in Peterhead

And so, dear listener, in this, the latest edition of The Blog Investigates, we look at the curious case of the missing academic editing but currently the dog next door does bark in the middle of the night.

So, for the last fourteen years or so, I have supplemented various incomes by copy editing primarily for students and researchers at all and any levels and in any subject. I do two readings as there’s more to it than just apostrophes, commas and spelling; in the second reading I make suggestions but technically I don’t attempt to correct content. I am a professional reader who wants the writer to get their message over to the various audiences as succinctly as possible. There’s Terms and Conditions based on the rules of the Glasgow University Peer Proofreading Group and what used to be called the Society for Editors and Proofreaders.

It’s all legitimate and it’s mostly for students for whom English is not their first language. For example, I have worked on PhDs where the examiners have said to the candidate, ‘Your ideas are great but you need to get someone to help you with your English before we can pass and publish your work.’ and I’ve worked with undergrads writing their first uny essay and I’ve corrected very little (and charged very little) as I’ve tried to explain the importance of research and not just the importance of ‘correct answers.’ And I enjoy it. And the income helps but so does the working with words in getting me through some of the difficult times I’ve experienced with various health issues. And I do enjoy helping folk.

But it’s stopped and I don’t know why. There is an issue with Glasgow University which I will resolve but since February I’ve had about three pieces of work* from existing sources and no new enquiries. I did have two PhDs to work on in February and March but I ‘returned’ them as I couldn’t edit from a hospital bed or with my leg in plaster.

*including a regular from a university in Latvia. There are no boundaries. And Chinese students were smashing at recommending me to other Chinese students.

In my early days I put up flyers in West of Scotland unies but every uny building refurbishment (especially during Covid) has seen open notice boards replaced by closed ones and my work is seen as commercial but I’d moved on from that. Over the years I have had a lot of repeat and referrals business but that’s stopped and I have no idea why. I’m talking to some folk, academically and professionally, who might be able to help but is there something simpler I should be doing?

And that’s why I’m turning to you, dear listener. All and any thoughts and questions are gratefully received. If you know me through Facebook then please contact me through fbook messaging but, otherwise, comment here and I will get back to you. Tioraidh……..     

‘A calm mind brings inner strength and self-confidence, so that’s very important for good health.’ (Dalai Lama)

And so, dear listener, I have had no further news since the bone scan reported that it couldn’t find anything other than that my knees are beginning to disintegrate (was that the word?) and ever since then I have worried about my knees.

OMG! How bad are they? Or am I just more aware. Plan A is, whatever the weather, get out more and Plan B is to pay closer attention to the various ads on TV for dodgy knees. Is that what the Ian Botham one is about?

And why is that all the old people (my age) in ads for life assurance or funeral plans look as if they live in houses where they can well afford the price of a funeral. Unless, of course, like Nicola Sturgeon the other day, they have no savings. Obviously her man, Peter, runs the domestic finances.

And the CT scan went very well in its little CT Pod at the back of the maternity bit at what most people still call the Southern (and can I just say I’ve never known any real Glasgow resident to talk about the clockwork orange?) and these machines are so light and airy and quick compared with the others I used for the previous cancer and heart scans a few years back.

Anyway, you lot will be the eighth to know anything after some other folk.

But there was that phone call. Like many people (my age) I still have a landline but I use it rarely and I’m one of those who, if it rings, wait until the person at the other hand begins to talk, or the bot at the other end hangs up. But I don’t know what I did on this occasion but my doctor’s voice came in and in my surprise, I cut her off. I thought. And I phoned the health centre and it was closed and she phoned back a couple of hours later but it was a message I seem to have never deleted.

No. She hadn’t called but we’d a pleasant enough chat. It’s always nice when you’re on first names with your doctor, isn’t it?.

In the meantime, you should see the holes in the carpet from walking up and down.

So, although I do think I have cancer and am quite accepting of that (but hopefully we’re getting it early enough) there is still a fear about hearing the news. But sharing always helps. Let’s play some music and move on.

Willie Nelson & Family – Always on My Mind (Live at Farm Aid 2018) – YouTube

A big thank you to the lady on the RBS Debit Card Helpline who talked me through my having a ‘no longer valid’ debit card which was being rejected. I didn’t have the info to hand but we found other ways of confirming it was me.

A big ‘You almost ruined my Saturday’ to the young woman with the cup of coffee in one hand and the lead for a dog with green flashing lights in the dark who didn’t seem to know how to use a parking machine and before I could even offer to help – from a distance – the dog looked at me and barked so evilly and menacingly that my first words were, well not becoming of a blog which is well read by church people.

Her words (the woman- not the dog)? ‘I’m sorry she doesn’t usually behave like that,’ to which I could only reply, ‘So it’s me then.’

‘Don’t be stupid. But maybe there’s something about you.’……..

So I stormed off to the other machine which, of course, was Out of Order. So I skulked until she’d worked out how the machine worked. Then I shoved in a couple of quid and walked down Queen Margaret Drive.

Was it because I was a man? I understand the issues that exist but I was brought to up be helpful and I know that these days the first offer of help would have to be careful but there are things happening in society that worry me.

And a big thank you to Son Brian who came over to do some computer tidying for me (my own scanner, ironically, wasn’t working but I use it for copying and mailing documents) and had some soup from the new soupmaker and some toasted cheese from the new toaster and some onion rings from the ASDA and we’d a jolly interesting chat about some matters that hopefully are at least four years away – a figure plucked out of the air.

And I’ve not left any room for tales of Luss a week ago but my shifts at the very lovely Maryhill Burgh Halls are going well and maybe we’re close to Stockingfield Bridge weather.

Tioriadh, apart from the odd moment, I’m still happily smiling and keeping it fun.

Iaint850, and the editing’s going well so I did some shopping in Waitrose which was why I was parked in Queen Margaret Drive even if you have to pay for it these days.

And here’s another piece of music to finish. Kinda sums up my life. Nothing ever happens 😉

Del Amitri – Nothing Ever Happens (Official Video) – YouTube       

“Be careful about reading health books. Some fine day you’ll die of a misprint.”― Markus Herz

And so, dear listener, I think the best way to approach this is chronologically.

On Tuesday last week I finished my shift at the Maryhill Burgh Halls and headed home, looking forward to trying more toasted cheese but doing the bottom side first as the new machine (and its instructions) seemed incapable of toasting it as well as the top.

There was a letter from the NHS Greater Glasgow and Clyde telling me that I had a CT scan (in a week’s time) for my chest, abdomen and pelvis. WTF? I knew nothing about this and phoned the Health Centre. Nobody was available but the very nice receptionist (and they all are at Maryhill Health Centre) said she’d get a doctor to phone me at 9 the next day but I explained I’d be heading towards a Nuclear Scan at that time. ‘Well, late afternoon in that case.’

So the next day arrives and good friend e comes to get me. The Maryhill Road is a nightmare and we make slow time by the aquaduct but get there in plenty of time and I’m dropped off. E goes – her job is done and I wander through. I’m in plenty of time (there’s a surprise) and, even better, there’s been a cancellation. Now a nuclear scan starts with radiation being injected into you but (and I know this from a previous time with cancer) you do not become Spiderman and your urine does not turn green. But I have to avoid pregnant women and children.

I now had three hours to kill and went for a walk. It’s a lovely part of old Glasgow – across the road from the Necropolis. And there’s the Cathedral and Cathedral Square and St Mungo’s Museum of Religious Life and Art. I wandered into its very tranquil surroundings and calmed down. I wandered round it – some really amazing artefacts and asked about the café. It was closed but there was one up the road. I found it and went in.

This was about 11.30 and it was very quiet. I noticed that breakfast finished at 11 but given it was so quiet I asked if I could maybe have a bacon roll. ‘No.’, said one of the two people behind the counter so I just had a cup of coffee and returned to the Royal.

And shortly after that I made my way to the Nuclear Medicine Dept and got taken.

It’s not the old claustrophobic chamber that I remember of old and there was no facility for playing CDs to take your mind off things. Shame cos I’d bought a couple of new CDs special for the occasion. It was open plan and easy to settle into and it took twenty minutes or so and that was me done. A wee bit shaky on my feet but back up to the exit where L and B were there to collect me.

And home. To await a call from the doctor. Instead I got a message saying the Health Centre computers were down and to try again the next day.

I did and got through bang on 8.30 and I got called back just after 9. We discussed the CT scan and no-one seems to know who my ‘cancer consultant’ is. But I’ll go on Tuesday to the QEU in the Southern part of Glasgow and I’ve already got drivers. And I know the reasons behind what’s happening and I’ll find out more. But I was down and slightly depressed and then the phone went and a friend called and a short while later I was in Luss, but that, dear listener, is another story for another day.  

That’s quite enough for one show. And catch up plans are postponed by a week ☹ But they are being planned even as I speak. There are spaces in my diary and I’m as fit as a vegan butcher’s dog (No. I’m not sure where that came from either) Please give me a shout.

Tioraidh, and still managing to smile 😊

Iaint850, and grateful for the help I’m getting.

Y’see, I do think I have cancer. I remember some things from fourteen or fifteen years ago but the big thing is how bad is it? One of the things the GP I spoke to on Thursday said was that they already had the results back and the (nuclear) bone scan showed that I had no problems with my bones, other than a slight degeneration of my knees. To be expected I suppose. My age. But that’s a good start 😉

Here’s a track from one of my new CDs I didn’t get the chance to play in the scan.

Karine Polwart – The Whole of the Moon (Official Video) – YouTube  

“Rain was a natural state of Glasgow. It kept the grass green and the people pale and bronchial.”― Douglas Stuart, Shuggie Bain

And so, dear listener, welcome to the first ever foodie edition of the show. Tonight, I’ll talk about some new kitchen equipment (in my kitchen), talk about a café and a restaurant in Glasgow’s West End and talk, disparagingly, about a TV programme I saw during the week.

But first, (and I’ve been wanting to say this for some time)……

I heard a man on the radio explaining how much we could save on our energy bills by only filling a kettle up to a certain level and going round the house switching off appliances at the mains and turning the thermostat down to a certain level and putting another jumper on.

And I read folk on social media saying the same thing cos they’d read it in the Guardian or heard it on Radio 4.

No!!!!!!

We don’t need this piecemeal approach. We need proper energy policies that allow us to make the best of what is there and enjoy life. We need a political party that puts the environment first and we don’t have one. We could call it the Really Green Party and maybe tempt Robin Harper out of retirement.

Sorry, as a Daily Record reader and Clyde 1 and Countryline Radio and BBC GMS listener, there’s a few things there I’ve been wanting to say for some time. And we desperately need a review of food banks and soup kitchens. Don’t worry. I’ll move myself on with some music.

Skipinnish // Walking On The Waves [Official Music Video] (ORIGINAL) – YouTube

So, (a conjunction I use a lot at the start of sentences) my new soupmaker has been used and it made a nice wee vegetable soup. Later today I’m going to make use of the fact that I have quite a few tomatoes and it’s almost a case of throwing them into the maker, add a few other bits and pieces and some stock and switch it on and it whirrs and blends and twenty one minutes later, there’s enough soup for three (if you’re passing) just waiting to be seasoned.

And I treated myself to a new toaster/grill thing and tried toasted cheese with it on Friday night. The toasted cheese bit was good but the underneath of the toast was still bread. I forgot to remove a cover and, so, will try again later this week.

The idea of fresh home made soup and toasted cheese in thirty minutes on days when I might have something else on my mind sounds appealing. I’ll keep you posted 😉

Sorry, if I’m sounding like a chef but that’s another thing that done my nut in earlier this week…….it should have been called The Hairy Bikers Patronise Scotland (Shawlands).

First, do TV chefs ever criticise anything except in the early days of Celebrity Masterchef? ‘That was bogging!’ (Mary Berry). Si and Dave on their new electric motorbikes, which they hated, found everything to be subtle, or as Para Handy, himself would say, ‘chust sublime’.

But it was the way they kept saying ‘Scotland is…….’, ‘The Scots are……..’ and ‘Scottish (things) are…..’ all the way through the programme. It was as if we were a little known separate archipelago hundreds of miles to the north of Fair Isle living our own wee independent life until they discovered us as a single amorphous mass.

Well, chust you wait, Hairy Bikers, (and, FFS, Jason Leitch is speaking on Spotify!)……..yes, chust you wait……Nicola Sturgeon has promised us an Independence Referendum in October this year and you’ll have to give us the recognition we deserve after that……..

I mean, it’s not as if the first debate when the Scottish Parliament re-opens this week is on independence rather than the state of the National Health Service in Scotland, is it? Or food. Or energy. What? Oh, it is. Ach, look, these things happen.

And Scotland’s own Nick Nairn was singing the praises of undiscovered local produce way back in Wild Harvest on the BBC in 1996.

A wee bit more music, maybe?

Mànran – Crow Flies – YouTube

And finally, I’d a very pleasant cup of coffee with a male friend in a café down Byres Road where we discussed his prostate (all I can do is share experiences) but that’s not why he’s remaining nameless. I arrive early at places. There’s a lot of good reasons for doing that but it was one of my early coping mechanisms when I was meeting people in a pub after Cold Turkey. Be early and meet them outside.

I showed up ten minutes early, and S, to give him his full name, was already inside and had started his skinny latte without me being there. I have so much to learn in life. Thank you, Little Italy.

And then the next day, I was with a female friend in a bistro type restaurant further into the west of the city where there was a lovely post Christmas feel to the place and it was dog friendly and one of the waiters dropped a bottle of red wine on the tiled floor which somehow added to the atmosphere and isn’t it amazing how many different flavours of chips you can get these days. Thank you, Little Soho.

So, before I say cheerio, here’s another wee piece of music. It’s environmentally friendly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4cOZ-zSdMs

Tioraidh, and another bit of the jigsaw puzzle that is my health at the moment fell into place when Dr L phoned me to say I can go back onto Ramipril but at a much lower level. There’s many people out there who are having problems far greater than me but they don’t all have Dr L. We continue to eliminate things and Dr L is like having a Sherlock Homes on your case. Thank you, Maryhill Health Centre.

Iaint850, and I may have more to tell you soontime.

In the meantime, thank you, everyone.

“Change can be scary, but you know what’s scarier? Allowing fear to stop you from growing, evolving, and progressing.”

Mandy Hale

And so dear listener, how was your Christmas and was Santa, in any shape or form, good for you? And Christmas Cards continue to arrive but I’m not sure if some have got lost in the current dispute, whether people have stopped sending them and now give to charity but haven’t told me, or whether people just don’t like me any longer.

I will continue to send cards next year, if spared, and I will continue to buy them from a charity shop or two. Double whammy.

My favourite present, in amongst all the chocolate, books and book tokens, was a soupmaker from the grandkids and their parents, which looks like a giant blender. I already make soup using stock and stuff in a big pot but like many single people, I make too much and end up throwing the rest of it out. I keep a full freezer (a freelance thing) so there’s no room for it.

I’ll let you know how I get on.

Here’s a song about a potential soup ingredient;

Booker T & The MGs – Green Onions *LIVE* – YouTube

And normally in a review of the year you look back at the really nice things that happened and that must include Missie K and the very new Baby R coming to my house, and meeting up with the rainforestriverman for the first time in three Covid years at the agreed time and place of the Waverley Steps in Embra at 0930 – him travelling by plane from London and me travelling by train from Summerston; or the things that don’t really fall into a genre and that must include the curious incident in the IMAX cinema which saw me and good friend e leaving a David Bowie movie early with our recognisable silhouettes contrasted with what was happening on screen or standing in Helensburgh Central Railway Station looking at a sign saying trains are delayed because a lorry has collided with a railway bridge overhead and Scotrail have no idea when trains will be running again; and sadly, a number of deaths, including exchanges of Christmas cards which sadly emphasised the speed with which these things can happen.

But there were two curiousities in my own life.

One, over the course of the last sixteen years I have, as well as sorting myself out from various health issues, devoted a lot of my time, both paid and unpaid, to working with and learning from, people with issues with drink, drugs, cancer and homelessness and I’ve enjoyed it and I hope been useful in their lives. It’s not been so much that I wanted to put something back; it’s been about me, selfishly, testing myself.    

I had signed up with the Simon Community, who work with Rough Sleepers and Vulnerable People, and was going to staff the helpline (and also do some shifts out there with the Street Team whatever the weather and I enjoyed them) but it didn’t work. I had become tired. Enthusiam had gone. I wasn’t taking it in. And I stood down. A correct decision but it was a bit of a shame.

I’ve since teamed up with Maryhill Burgh Halls helping out in various ways including the museum and exhibition area they have there. It’s fun.

Stockingfield Bridge is brilliant. Come with me one day and, hopefully, soon time we can have coffee in the Halls.

I’ve started a writing project based on those sixteen years but when I sit down at the typewriter my mind goes blank but when I sit down and talk to folk, the stories flow. I should record those conversations. The memories from the years before will never go away.

And Two, there’s been my health since the Covid Booster and Flu Jag in October. I have spoken here and elsewhere, about the stomach and bowel issues and they, and bowel cancer, have been dismissed as possibilities and concerns about anaemia and kidney problems seem to have disappeared now I’ve stopped using a medication for my blood pressure. So what is it?

Tioraidh, and whatever it is I will keep it simple and will keep smiling.

Iaint850, looking forward to my soup.  

So, lots to look forward to in 2023.

My grandkids will continue to grow; I have ordered a new car (thanks late sister); and I have two PhDs provisionally booked in for editing in February and March; and I have an idea for my seventieth in 2024. It may not be as exciting as my sixtieth when I abseiled off the Titan crane in Clydebank along with the good doctor W and Going Ape in Aberfoyle, but it’ll be good.

And I think for the first blog of 2023, that’s enough.

“One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas Day. Don’t clean it up too quickly.” – Andy Rooney

And so, dear listener, after all the recent stuff about it being sixteen years since I cold turkeyed (see archive and fb timeline if you don’t know what I’m talking about) this is a return to fun and pleasure and the world famous Christmas cracker edition of the blog.

You want an example?

Q    What’s the best Christmas present ever?

A     A broken drum. Ye cannae beat it.

And at this point I’d like to thank my friends at the Daily Telegraph for their help with compiling all these gags a year ago…..and to Skippy for being my guinea pig – except she’s an invisible bush kangaroo.

So, yes, I explained last week that I just don’t drink and haven’t for sixteen years and explained that it was all down to various coping mechanisms, none of which are a secret, but include you, the blog and humour like this.

Q   What do you get if you cross Santa with a duck?

A    A Christmas quacker

And music. And some of you may remember an attempt see a David Bowie movie in the IMAX earlier this year which saw me and good friend e having to leave early, silhouetted against the screen. Au fin du jour, it was my fault. I’m not sure if this was played after we left.

Bing Crosby, David Bowie – Peace On Earth / Little Drummer Boy – YouTube

It was also a year when Missie K gave birth to Baby R and came across to my house to see all the changes that had taken place since she was last there (Missie K that is – not Baby R) and a year when I stopped working with people with issues like drink, drugs, cancer and homelessness – not that I’ve given up caring but the last stint with the brilliant Simon Community was taking a lot out of me. So I stopped.

I am currently volunteering at Maryhill Burgh Halls and thoroughly enjoy the change. Let’s see what next years brings so in many ways, including the fact that the editing is doing okay and it’s mostly at PhD level but also for academic journals. And one undergrad.

That’s cool.

Q   How Does Good King Wenceslas like his pizzas?

A   Deep pan, crisp and even.

And delighted to say that Summer at the Bandstand returned and this year’s band of choice was The Jesus and Mary Chain. I had been slightly apprehensive cos they were young and had a reputation but when I thought about it, so had I. Once.

The Jesus And Mary Chain – Just Like Honey (Official Music Video) – YouTube  

And there has been some chat about my health which took a bit of a downturn after I got the Covid booster and flu jag and I’ve not had any issues getting in touch with a GP. I seem to have had four of them and one of them, the one who carried out the internal examination, has asked me to go in on Tuesday to carry out quite a wide range of blood and other tests. This is slightly different from the other doc who talked about ‘routine tests’. Yes. I am disappointed. I could have been in last week. Fingers crossed.

(And this must be one of my all time favourites)

Q     What do you call a bunch of chess players bragging about their games in a hotel lobby?

A     Chess nuts boasting in an open foyer.

And I have sent out Christmas cards with no certainty as to when they’ll arrive but most of them are from charity shops, so two birds are killed there. As I write this, many presents are wrapped but such has been the way of things this year, I have shopped online. I’ve not been able to pop into town as much as previous years cos I use the train even if it’s not the service it once was. Once the various rail strikes are over I will ask Scotrail and Jenny Gilruth to return the Summerston to Queen Street service to off peak half hours. I may even invite them to coffee at the Maryhill Burgh Halls (where there is currently a brilliant photographic exhibition) once the new café opens.

And the point is I’m still waiting for stuff to arrive by Royal Mail.

I’m not sure about blogging this coming weekend cos it’s Christmas. We’ll see.

Anyway, I approach the end of 2022 in quite a positive frame of mind. And with plans for next year. Two PhDs are booked in for editing. Many of them. Maybe a new car? More of that anon…….

One final joke

Q   Why is it getting harder to buy Advent calendars?

A    Because their days are numbered.

So,

Nollaig Chridheil  to everyone from me, Iaint850, and Skippy, and enjoy the final piece of music…… even if the audio could be a wee bit better.

Peat & Diesel Ft Mairead – Fairytale of Stornoway – YouTube

Sooner or later the Internet will become profitable.

It’s an old story played before by canals, railroads and automobiles.

(Paul Samuelson)

And so, dear listener, at a time when Glasgow seems to have lost its direction by offering consultation plans on everything but forgets the difference clearing the drains and filling in the potholes could make, I am delighted to say that a ray of hope has just been officially opened in the north of the city.

It took place yesterday (Saturday) and was opened with the help of lantern carriers and other lights which shone on an amazing tower and an old car and some concrete which is about to become a snake with teeth and a back road that takes you into Ruchill just round the corner from my former addiction centre. You never forget, do you?

I refer of course to the amazing Stockingfield Bridge which has been designed to straddle the Forth and Clyde Canal at the point where the canal goes off in one direction to Falkirk and the Kelpies and then Edinburghish and in the other direction into town and beyond – past the fast maturing Hamiltonhill and Claypits Nature Reserve.

It’s the first fixed and permanent pedestrian link between the communities of Ruchill, Gilshochill and Maryhill since the Forth and Clyde Canal was opened in 1790 following the sterling efforts of a man called John Smeaton who may have been a distant relative of the John Smeaton who helped see off the Glasgow Airport terrorists several years ago.  

I have spent some of my recent lunch hours as a Tuesday volunteer at Maryhill Burgh Halls walking around the area but had never crossed it. Last week I did, in the company of good friend e and the wonder dogs, Holly and Amber.

It’s difficult to do it justice but the views of Glasgow on a clear and crispy December Wednesday are superb; there is a tremendous sense of smiles on the faces of other explorers; and at one point I was handed the joint reins to holly and Amber and thought I was going to be pulled in to the canal. But no.

But two highlights if I may.

We were looking at some tiles which are part of the installation and represent part of the history of Maryhill and we got talking to this man. He was only Nichol Wheatley, the artist behind one of the major artworks which is a massive snake and he took time to show us the pics on his phone of what it’s all going to look like and chatted with us about the importance of the community and the part it was playing in the new life of the bridge. A definite good share.

The other highlight?

Seeing my late sister’s old flat from the other side of the canal (well e worked it out) cos from the windows of her flat you could see folk on the other side of the canal and now I was on the other side. I plan, next week, to go to what was her side and walk across from there. That will be an emotional moment.

Anyway, if you want any more info about the bridge and its surroundings just ask. Alternatively, my volunteer shift at the Maryhill Burgh Halls is on a Tuesday but it’s open other days of the week (Monday to Friday). Just next to the large Christmas Tree in Maryhill Road across from a bar called Harvies and a café called Robyn’s Nest as featured in Still Game.

Time for a piece of music. Many years ago I made a programme about the Forth and Clyde Canal which was presented by Jimmie Macgregor. I may have the cassette somewhere. This was one of the pieces of music on it. I must have a look for it.

MESSING ABOUT ON THE RIVER – YouTube  

And then there’s Christmas. I know it’s still a wee bit early but it falls on rather a difficult day for me and the blog – a Sunday – and this coming Sunday (10^th) is a rather important anniversary for me which I plan to share with you all.

The following week is the traditional annual Christmas cracker edition of the show and then it’s Sunday, 25^th December – Christmas Day.  

Which is exactly one week after the World Cup Final cos it’s Qatar’s National Day, so when else would you have a World Cup Final?

And just as puzzling is the new second class Christmas stamp. I understand that part of it is a bar code which, to be honest, I did try and tear off cos it looks like the kind of thing you’d tear off. No. What is the picture meant to be? To me it looks very disrespectful to the person I assume is Mary.

But do you remember the Christmas stamp of a few years ago? The one where it looked like Mary was at a Yamaha organ and Joseph was singing into a mic on a stand – as opposed to an elf on the shelf? It was 2015 and if you can’t remember it, then those are the words to Google.

But what said to me that Christmas was coming was not the Coca Cola lorry in Renfrew but the fact that my grandkids and their parents have just been to the North Pole (Lapland) and are due back very late. I’m waiting to hear about their adventures.

Tioraidh, and despite my health issues which remain unsolved (but we may be getting there) I am smiling

Iaint850, looking forward to Christmas  

So let’s finish with a traditional Christmas song

The Futureheads – Christmas Was Better In The 80s – YouTube

“Time and health are two precious assets that we don’t recognize and appreciate until they have been depleted.” ~Denis Waitley

And so, dear listener, many thanks to those of you who asked after me, and my health, the other day. We seem to be fine. I even had a rectal examination on Friday. From a doctor. For totally different reasons from any I’ve previously had in my lifetime. It took a lot out of me.

And we’ve one or two more tests and samples to go this week and if they are okay, then we put it down to some things taking longer to settle than we’d normally expect, and a discussion about diet followed. Apparently I’ve lost 3 kilos since September. That’s 6.6 lbs, isn’t it? Did I mean to, I was asked. I coughed.

Laura is a new doctor to me but I liked her and her sense of humour. I explained that I am worried about bowel cancer as my sister died of rectal cancer which isn’t that dissimilar but ‘mind you. I had prostate cancer and she wasn’t worried about getting that, was she?’

To which Doctor Laura replied.

‘Well, that was one each then, wasn’t it?’

And I did have a wee greet when I explained how long it is since I’ve had alcohol. And I’ll explain a wee bit more about that in a couple of weeks. Here’s some music whilst I get a tissue.

Wilko Johnson She Does It Right – Later with Jools Holland Live 2011 720p HD – YouTube

Interestingly enough to me, the Maryhill Health Centre is just along the road from the Maryhill Burgh Halls where there is this jolly wonderful exhibition of photos by the wonderful Campbell Ramage of people and places within Maryhill, including the observatory which is now based in the University of Glasgow Science Park and I’ve become a wee bit of an expert on its various locations over the years.

It’s ‘funny’. Six months ago, I’d have been part of a group made up of folk from the Simon Community and some of the other homeless charities, the police and some health workers, and would have been out overnight doing a ‘full audit’ of the folk rough sleeping in the Glasgow area. And the answer is seven. I think the last time it was either seven or six.

Y’see there’s a big difference between ‘rough sleepers’ and the ‘homeless’ – many of the latter were found accommodation in hotels and b’n’bs at the start of the Covid and have roofs over their head – but not their own roofs and maybe not great roofs.

Anyway, that’s me digressing.

The other Friday there, good friend e and I paid a visit to the Halls as visitors and enjoyed it. At the moment there’s no café in the Halls but that’s getting sorted but I am happy to recommend Robyn’s Nest across the road being clean and tidy and as featured in Still Game.

And then we went our separate ways.

A few days later, I went for a walk along the canal bank from the Halls, onto the aqueduct that takes you over the Maryhill Road and then round to the corner where you find yourself at the brilliant Stockingfield Bridge for pedestrians and cyclists and if you cross it (and it is unofficially open) you find yourself in parts of North Glasgow that were accessed from one direction only.

Or you can carry on walking and go past Ruchill Park with its amazing views of Glasgow and its disc golf, past Firhill where I’ve not been for a few weeks (for previously stated reasons) and then into the lovely Hamiltonhill and Claypits Nature Reserve.

Here’s some relaxing music for after your walk. And it’s not just Maryhill. It’s Glasgow and it’s sung by Billy Connolly.

I Wish I Was in Glasgow (Billy Connolly) – YouTube

And I don’t usually do politics but I have to say something about events this week.

At the request of the current Scottish Government the UK Supreme Court met in London (and it could just have easily been a shed in Springburn) to answer a question about holding a referendum and, to the surprise of so many nationalists it seemed, it decided that there had been no change in the Scotland Act (1998) which had set the rules for the Referendum in 2014 and that, therefore, there could be no referendum without a Section 30 from Westminster.

And whilst there’s all this talk about the next General Election being a de facto referendum I for one will be very angry if I am not allowed to vote Labour so that the Tories are thrown out of the Westminster Government, altho’ I suspect the Electoral Commission will have something to say.

Toraidh, and now that I’ve settled a bit after that examination, I’m beginning to smile.

Iaint50, who was described by his creative writing tutor as the ‘bravest’ in the class but I think that means I was the bigmouth that every teacher needs to start a discussion.

Aye, I would like to see an independent Scotland but because I think we have the potential but I see Scotland as a big country – not a small minded one. And where electric guitars can be made to sound like bagpipes.

Big Country – In A Big Country – YouTube

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.” – John F Kennedy

And so, dear listener, by the time you read this, the actual Armistice Day will be well over and Remembrance Sunday will be slowing down and poppies will be discarded or kept aside, especially if they’re a wee bit more ceramic than the cheap paper poppy that at least one MSP bought.

Two minute silences will have been observed and Boys’ Brigade and Girl Guide marches outside churches will be sweetie papers, and King Charles III will have hosted his first British Legion Saturday night in the Royal Albert Hall. Huw Edwards will have seen him through it. Safely.

But I’m going to tell this story anyway, as I do most years because it says to me that, whilst the red poppy is there to remind us of the ultimate sacrifices that so many people made during the two World Wars, there are other things which remind people of the horror of wars in ways we can’t always imagine.

Or, at least, I didn’t until…….

Let me take you back, dear listener, in that kinda Tardis/Time Lord way to 2003 and Saddam Hussein’s threats and actions towards Kuwait and, indeed, the rest of the Middle East. I’ve just been watching the pictures from the Falkland Isles forty years ago – or at least those that we were allowed to see. Grey and grainy.

2003 and technology had moved on. I was following things, through an alcoholic haze, for the BBC and sharing some of it with my journalism students at a college. Those pictures were of a top gaming standard and brought it all into our very own living rooms.

And then I was on the phone to my mother – my dad had died a few years before – and in the midst of the conversation, she asked,

‘Do you think we’ll have a war?’

And me thinking it would be several thousand miles away, said ‘Yes.’

And there was silence at the other end of the phone. We chatted about other things but I worried about the silence and it was only later that I realised that ‘war’ for my mum was not always fought in a foreign field but sometimes closer to home.

My mum had been brought up in Springburn – the locomotive capital of the world – and lived there during World War II. It was both on the flight path to Clydebank and a target in itself.

German pilots would bomb the factories or, often, before they reached the ant-aircraft fire in and around Clydebank, they would just jettison their bombs anyway and get the hell away from Scotland.

It wasn’t a ‘blitz’ but it was real enough and frightening; so when I cheerily said yes to her question about a war, it wasn’t pictures from over Baghdad, that came to her mind but cowering under a kitchen table in Keppochill Road, Springburn. I’m not too sure what shelters there actually were in those days but they’d have been pretty simple. Anyway, she survived to marry my dad.

We all have memories but we can never be sure what will trigger them.

In Flanders Fields – YouTube

One of my mother’s proudest achievements was that she was Dux of Keppochill Primary School and was very pleased when, many years later, I was Dux of Peterhead Central School but didn’t really go on to fulfil that academic promise.

I have this strange feeling that schools may no longer have Duxes and the runner up had the Latin nomenclature of Approxime Accessit. That was Gail Summers and even that age of 11, it was possible for my heart to flutter…….

Let’s move on in the little space I’ve left.

Actually, before we do move on, one final word about remembering. In the graveyard across the road from me are a large number of war graves. Men and women; British, Empire and Commonwealth; and many other nationalities – all with dates and ranks and maybe a wee bit of their story.

Except.

Amongst all the gravestones so tenderly looked after by the War Graves Commission with help from a local community project, there is one with two names on it and nothing else. The names? They both sound German. I’ll maybe try and do a wee bit of research before I disclose them but they do stand out in their simplicity.

And in the spirit of remembrance, I worked with Rab Noakes at the BBC and admired him as a performer. There was a wee group of singer/songwriters/musicians/performers who moved on from the ‘folk singer’ nomenclature. So here’s Rab singing a song written for Gerry Rafferty.

He stopped drinking alcohol in 1982 and his cancer was discovered several years later. There’s always a connection.

I have started to think about Christmas with some pre-orders; I’d like to thank the Maryhill Health Centre for all their help with my recent unwellness and they didn’t seem fazed by me asking them to be careful with what they asked me as my phone was on speaker and I was in the middle of the Botanic Gardens; and I recently met up, separately, with my ex, L, and a good friend, Colin, who I’ve known for many years and, in our separate meetings, we agreed to grump. About what? Old person things. I’ll maybe tell you next week.

And as most of you know, I’ve left the glamourous world of drink, drugs, cancer, homeless and so on and help out on a Tuesday at Maryhill Burgh Halls but I don’t know if they are aware of my blogging altho’ it does say so in my CV. So I’ll be careful in what I say.

There’s a really brilliant exhibition of photos of the people of Maryhill and it is free and well worth coming in to see, Monday to Friday (10-5). It’s called Maryhill is Wonderful and is good.

Tioraidh, and it makes you smile

Iaint850, feeling quite settled

Tuesday

And why’s it called Maryhill is Wonderful? Well, in the words of the song,

“Oh Maryhill is Wonderful” – YouTube

“You can’t calm the storm, so stop trying. What you can do is calm yourself. The storm will pass.” – Timber Hawkeye

And so, dear listener, my thanks to all those who sent best wishes once the news of my ‘not wellness’ got through to them. I reacted badly to something that may or may not have been connected to my flu and Covid jags or the paracetamol I took after them – although this had not been an issue before.

Eventually, and let’s lose the euphemism, it was constipation which was not helped by my own indecision over the medicine my chemist gave me. It seemed to be working so I stopped taking it. Which was a mistake. I should have kept going.

So, I went to the doctor. A Tuesday morning phone call at 0830 which was answered five minutes later and an appointment was made for 1120. Tuesday is the main day of my helping as a volunteer at Maryhill Burgh Halls, which is just five minutes along the road from the Health Centre.

All good to go and I was met by a doctor I didn’t know and I explained the issue. Everything seemed fine and then he asked me to lie down on the couch on my side and started to pull on cheap and disposable gloves – at which point I coughed loudly and explained my previous experience of prostate examinations. But no, it was nothing like that. He pushed and prodded my stomach and I left him with a urine sample and he agreed to make an appointment for me for a kidney scan.

And the constipation? Slightly different medications and their success can be measured, today, by the fact I am typing this in a room next to my bathroom rather than the Firhill terracings where the loo is a bit far away from where we stand. And how did I feel once ‘things’ started happening?

Well Curly Shar suggested this on Facebook for something else but very appropriate for me at 0530 this morning.

Billy Idol, Miley Cyrus – Rebel Yell (Live) – YouTube

Let’s move on.      

Let’s talk my funeral. It kinda followed on from a visit from my ex, whose mum, Gran Buses died a few weeks ago but also one of the days early in my ‘not wellness’ was a sheer black hole when all sorts of things went through my head.

And it was added to after a walk in the graveyard with good friend e and the wonder dogs, Holly and Amber. So, we’re not talking too heavy but I did re-draw my will when my sister passed on – as we say – and made a few changes. Gran Buses put a lot of time and effort into planning hers and there was a smashing photo montage and the celebrant was superb; so, for example, should I make a list of funny stories from my life to be used at the cremation.

I know that Son Brian will want to tell the story of that Saturday morning, when he was much younger, and I got ‘surprised’ by Batman in the MacLellan Galleries and that ties in so nicely with my being prepped for the radiotherapy at the Beatson and the instructions a nurse gave me, so people didn’t think I was already dead.     

And, of course, some of you are only known to him by your initials and should I make up a list of possible invitees (VIP and ‘others’) and is too soon to put post-its on certain things in the house suggesting that this be given to such a person and this actually belongs to someone else – that kinda thing? Any thoughts?

And then there’s the music. Two out of three pieces have been chosen by me and they’re in the will. As the coffin arrives in the chapel (as they’re called in the Western Necropolis) there’s an Alex Harvey track that I want played and I’m keeping quiet about the final track to be played as you leave the chapel. I hope it will make you smile.

Son Brian can choose the middle contemplative piece. He chose ‘I’m On My Way’ by the Proclaimers for my sister, which is as good as you’ll get for that final piece of music but his middle choice will need to be more contemplative. He, and his family, like Skerryvore.

Skerryvore – Take My Hand [Official Music Video] – YouTube

Except it’s a wee while since I’ve been partnered, but you get the rough idea. Let’s move on.

Mind you, there’s not a lot left to say. I’ve printed off the Christmas list (and deleted two names); I’ve got my first request for pressies for grandkids but not from them; and I had started the pre-Christmas tidy but the ‘not wellness’ has got in the way of that.

But, first, there are two birthdays in November. And I’m not totally through this weekend yet. In the last sixteen years (almost) I have become very aware of my own mortality and I know it sounds daft, but that black hole Friday came close.

Tioraidh, and it wasn’t easy smiling until I kept it simple

Iaint850, not quite a shadow of my former self but slowly recovering 😉

And to finish, here’s a piece of music recommended by my friend Ann, who was one of several cancellations over the last few days. Role reversal?

M.I.A. – “Bad Girls” (Official Video) – YouTube