Tuesday, 19 February 2013

The Blood Donor (II)

For an easy-read version of Stewart Cree's Blog see Nigel's Blog above or go directly to this link
“Good evening Convener – you’re working late tonight - I was just about to lock up.”
“Oh fit like Nigel? I’m jist gettin’ ready for ma Civic Duties doon at the Toon Hall”

“Civic Duties Convener?”

“Aye, I’m awa doon tae the Blood Donors Award Ceremony, so I’m jist gie’in ma chain a wee bit polish afore aa go”

“Ah yes, Blood Donors, a most worthwhile and commendable sacrifice.  Are you making many awards?”

“Oh aye.  There’s 34 fowk getting’ awards for gie’in dam’t near 2,000 pints o’ blood!  So I wis hopin’ I wid pick up a few tips”.

“Tips about giving blood?”

“Na na Nigel.  It’s tips aboot the budget that aa’m needin’.  Aa’m fair scunnert tryin’ tae get enugh siller oot o’ the Government to pey aa’ oor bills – an’ ony chance o’ pittin’ up the cooncil tax a bitty his gone rich toot the windae ‘cos we’re nae allowed tae dae that.  So - aa thocht I’d turn tae the experts.”

“Well I am sure that the Blood Transfusion Service is very prudent in its financial management, but I don’t know how they can help you in your dealings with the Government.”

“Weel I thocht that they wid be jist the billies tae tell ma  hoo’ tae get bleed oot o’ a stane!  An’ file they’re aboot it -  they could, forbyes, come doon to the Cooncil Chambers on Tuesday’s and Wednesday’s aboot 11 o’clock.  Aa some think there’s a few Cooncillors that wid be prepared to volunteer tae gie blood aboot that time.”

“At 11 O’clock Convener?.  Why on earth would they volunteer at 11 O’clock?”

“Well it’s aa’ this cuts ye see.  The ither week we pit a moratorium on tea and biscuits for Cooncillors - so at 11 o’clock, fin we used tae hae wir fly cup, the best we can manage noo - is a glass o’ waater.  So there’s a fair chunce that, if the blood transfusion van came doon, the Cooncillors wid volunteer jist tae get a cup o tea and a Jammie Dodger.”

Convener, you can’t go giving blood every week for the sake of a custard cream or a bourbon.  That’s not the spirit at all – and I trust that you’ve been a regular donor yourself?

“Ahhh…. weel, there’s the rub.  There’s a wee bit o’ a problem there.  Ye see – for a laang time I wis prevented frae giein’ blood on accoont o’ a medical condition.”
 “And what condition was that?
“I wis feart!.  Aa jist couldna’ look at a needle wi’oot feelin’ faint. Even ma grannie danin’ socks set ma aff.  I think it wis aa’ Tony Hancock’s fault.  He wis aye goin’ on aboot a pint o’ blood bein a hale ermfae - an’ I didna’ realise he wis only jokin!  Bit dinna you go tellin’ aabody - ‘cos it’s ane o’ my darker secrets an’ I’m probably too auld noo tae change.”
“But Convener – you’re supposed to set an example.  If you don’t practice what you preach you’ll be accused of being a hypocrite.”
“A hippo fit?”
“A hypocrite – someone who says one thing but does another.”
“Dinna’ you dare mention Politicians!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it Convener and your secret’s safe with me….provided…..”
“Provided fit?”
“Provided you mend the error of your ways and at the very least make enquiries tonight as to whether you’re suitable as a blood donor”
“Or else?”
“Or else there may be a leak of confidential information concerning the Convener’s blood donor history”
“Hoo big a leak?”
“Oh – about a pint I imagine”
“Oh touché Nigel – aa’ll dae it – aa’ll dae it!”
“Well, I’ll hold you to your word Convener”
It’s never too late.  You can start giving blood anytime up to your 66th birthday so for more details about how you can mend the error of your ways visit the Scottish Blood Transfusion Service on:-

Some of the recipients of the Awards

Tuesday, 12 February 2013

The Only Constant Is Change

For an easy-read version of Stewart Cree's Blog see Nigel's Blog above or go directly to this link
“Aye Aye Nigel – Fit’s daein’ the day?”

“Well Convener, I wanted a word with you about your blog.”

“Fit aboot ma’ blog?”

“Well that’s rather the point.  What about it indeed!  I’ve heard rumblings that you haven’t been very active on that front lately.  There’s been nothing heard from you for a fortnight!”

“Aye, fair dues… bit I hiv been tryin’ – honestly.  It’s jist that every time I get somethin’ doon on paper aathin’ changes before I kin get it ontae ma blog.”

“What do you mean – everything changes?”

“Weel, jist the ither week I wiz sayin’ foo unseasonable it hid been an’, as seen as I hid said that, we wiz up tae oor oxters in sna’.  I hid tae tak’ that bit oot or else they’d aa’ be blamin’ me for bringin’ it on. 

“Well you might have been tempting fate a bit but you surely can’t blame yourself simply because the weather does the opposite of what predict”.

“Ah weel that’s as maybe - bit try tellin’ that tae Michael Fish.  Oneywey, it’s nae that bad noo so we’ll jist hae tae glory on.  Then there wis ma letter tae the Pope.”

“The Pope, Convener?”.

“Oh aye – I wiz goin tae tell aabody aboot ma letter tae the Pope …. bit as soon as I hid written it doon – he’d resigned!!”

“Well but I’m sure that your reader will still be interested in that.  We don’t have a lot of correspondence with the Vatican.  What prompted you to write?”

“Weel, I jist winted tae congratulate the Pope on catchin’ up wi’ me an’ getting himsel’ ontae the social media scene.  He’s started twitterin ye ken.”

“Now we’ve had this conversation before Convener!  People using Twitter, tweet.  But why is this of particular interest to you?”

“Well, ye ken fit they say - imitation is the sincerest form o’ flattery- an’ the Pope’s tweetin’ in Doric as weel.”

“The Pope’s tweeting in Doric?”

“Aye….. well maybe nae in my Doric.  He’s tweetin’ in his ain Doric – Latin.”

“Latin is the Pope’s Doric?”

“Aye of course it is.  It’s the auld language o’ the Romans - jist like Doric is the auld language o’ the fowk fae Moray.  So I’m thinkin’ that the Pope his cotton’d on tae my idea an’ is usin’ Latin for his twits.”

Tweets, Convener.”

“Aye aye - it’s aa’ the same thing.  So I thocht I wid jist send him a wee notie tae congratulate him on his novel, weel nearly novel,  approach.”

“And have you written your….er….. notie  in Doric?

“Weel, no - but a hiv tae accept that, file Doric’s ane o’ the world’s maist romantic languages – jist like Italian -  it’s maybe nae aa’ that weel understood these days – specially doon the Vatican wey -  so I’ve hid tae dae ma usual translation for him.”

“Well I’m sure that the Pope will be gratified to learn of your admiration for his foray into the age of digital communication, but I think it’s stretching a point a bit to suggest that Doric is a language with romantic overtones similar to those found in Italian”.

“Oh nane the bit!.  Doric’s as romantic as ony ither language… It’s maybe jist a bit mair straight tae the pint.  You ken hoo the Italian’s micht say “Ciao Amore! – a’ wanna cradle a’ you inna ma arms ana shower you witha ma hot keesses”?  In Doric ye’d say “Fit like bonny quine?  Ye gonna gie’s a bosie?”  So there you are, jist exactly the same - bit in half the time!”

“Convener, I’ve no idea what a ‘bosie’ is and I believe I might do well to remain ignorant.  But this isn’t providing any material for your blog.  Can’t you think of anything that’s topical but not subject to sudden change?”


“No that’s been overdone – oh! I did it again – horsemeat…. overdone!  Do you get it?”

“Aye… bit only frae Findus … there’s nae horsemeat selt in oor butchers.  Nae Shergarburgers or Triggermince in Moray!  Bit ye’re richt… that story’s been roon the hooses mair than the joke aboot the White Horse that went intae a bar.  The barman looked at it and said – “here – we’ve got a whisky named efter you.”  The horse looked at him an’ said….”Fit? Eric?!”

“Convener… I despair, you’re just avoiding the issue.  You’ll need to find something that people are interested in and that won’t change overnight.”

“Aa’ve got it!.  I’ll pit it oot next week.”

“Won’t it change by then?”

“Na, na – this ane goes on forever!”

“What on earth is it then?”

“Budget cuts!!!!”