The himmist bittie I wrote for the newsletter,‘The Road Tae the Catbow,’ brings me nearly tae the ine o’ my Catbow memories. A curn eer’s aifter the road wis made, I followed the road oot o’ the Catbow an’ gied awa tae the University in Edinburgh. I gied back for the holidays, but I niver bade in the Catbow aifter that. I bade in the Catbow for the first 17 years of my life. I kent it wis a unique place, different a’ the gither fae the rest o’ Buckie that wis across the railway line. Bit I’ve been in California 25 years, a lot langer than I wis in Buckie.
Halloween is just bye. The bairnies here chap on the door an’ shout ‘Trick or Treat!’ I min’ gan’ roon the Catbow, guisin’ in my Mam’s peeny an’ a heid scarf, wi’ a cardboard fause-face fae Pozzi’s. If it wis a weet nicht, it wisna lang afore the fause-face disintegrated, an’ I kin still taste the soggy cardboard. I worked for my pennies an’ toffee aipples. My party piece was to recite Sir Walter Scott’s The Lay of the Last Minstrel, or as muckle o’t as the neebours cwid thole. Awa’ I gied:
I aye started tae greet fin I got to the orphan Boy an’ the neebours were aye gled fin they thocht I’d feenish’d an’ sent me awa’ wi’ my penny. If only I had had the ability tae dance the Heelan’ Fling, I’d be wee1 aff noo. Bit the bairns here dinna dee ‘turns.’ They jist tak a neive fae o’ sweeties oot o’ my basket an’ awa they ging, tae the neist hoose. The wee bairnies are cute in the costumes, bit och the big loons come wi’ pillowslips an’ tak twa neive fae’s. The greedy mooks!
This eer I spiered at a’ the bairnies gin they’d sing a sang or recite a poem for me, bit they jist lookit at me like I wis feel and took the sweeties onywye. Ae wee quinie hid the impidence tae tell she didna like my sweeties!
Bit apairt fae the bairnies chappin’ at the door for sweeties, I kent it wis Halloween because I got twa Christmas cairds fae Scotland on that day. I min’ Canadian relatives got their Chrishmas cairds fae Dad roon aboot Halloween. I explained tae them that he thocht he wis senin’ them surface mail an’ it wid tak twa month for them tae git there, bit na na, they aye came airmail, even if he pyed the chape rate, an’ wrote ‘surface mail’ on a’ the envelopes.
The extra early arrival o’ the Christmas cairds made me min’ on Granny an’ Granda an’ the parcel they sent tae Uncle Bill, Aunt Joey an’ cousins, Edna and Katie, in Canada every eer. They started wee1 afore Halloween an’ bocht a’ the presents.
They full’t a big cardboard box wi’ the presents; socks, ganseys, gloves an’ scarfies. They full’t the box up wi’ Broons or oor Willie and the People Friend annuals. An’ half o’ Louis’ sweetie shop gied intil that box: lucky tatties, coo candy, sugar moosies an’ a’ kin o’ ither galshick that wad mak a dentist rub his hans the gither an maybe order a new drill. (My American dentist cwid buy a mansion wi’ my Buckie teeth, the like o’ he’d nivver seen afore.)
They full’t a big cardboard box wi’ the presents; socks, ganseys, gloves an’ scarfies. They full’t the box up wi’ Broons or Oor Willie and the People Friend annuals. An’ half o’ Louis’ sweetie shop gied intil that box: lucky tatties, coo candy, sugar moosies an’ a’ kin o’ ither galshick that wad mak a dentist rub his hans the gither an maybe order a new drill. (My American dentist cwid buy a mansion wi’ my Buckie teeth, the like o’ he’d nivver seen afore.)
Fin the box wis ful, they’d tape it a’ roon, syne shew it intae a fite flannel sheet an’ write Uncle Bill’s name an’ address on the a’ fower sides o’ the sheet, syne cover it wi’ broon paper an ‘ write the name an’ address on a’ fower sides o’ that. Then they tied it up wi’ tow. I dinna min’ fit wye they got it up tae the Post Office. The box lookit bigger than Granda. An’ he wis 5’. Bit awa it gied.
Richard and I wid like tae wish a’ body a’ the best for 2004, Jest like the words on a’ my Christmas cards fae Buckie, ‘Frae Across the Miles.’
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