Swan Song

“Fit like Nigel?”

“Goodness me Convener, where have you been?”

“Weel, seen as ye’re askin’ a wis jist in the laavy. Fit wis ye needin’ tae ken for oneywey?”

“No Convener , I didn’t mean your physical presence, I was talking about your digital presence, you know, your blog. We haven’t seen sight or sound of that for ages.”

“Ah weel Nigel ye ken fit it’s like, aa’ve jist been ower busy. An’ my blogs a bit like Downton and Strictly - ye dinna hear much aboot them in the summer bit sure enouch, fin the nichts draa’ in, ye hear aboot naethin’ else. Oneywey, fit’s that ye’ve got in the boxie?”

“Oh it’s your office supplies - but I need to ask you about that.”

“Ask me fit?”

“Well you’ve ordered 10 bottles of Tippex. Why on earth would anyone require that amount?”

“Oh aye, ma Tippex, that’s great. A wis needin it fir ma recycling.”

“Recycling Convener? What on earth has Tippex got to do with recycling?”

“Weel it’s aa this cutbacks. Ye see we’ve nae money for luxuries like Christmas Cards but fin aa wiz haein’ a redd oot last week aa fun’ a great pile o’ aal’ Christmas Cards at the back o’ the office press. They’d come frae aa’’ oo’er the place an some o’ them wis gey fantoosh. So I thocht ti’ masel’ - if ah jist Tippexed oot the signatures, an gee them a bit dicht up - they wid dae jist fine this year tae send oot frae the Moray Cooncil Convener tae ah his freen’s.”

“To all your friends Convener? Well that’s one blessing - you won’t need too many!”

“Jist watch it sunshine! The Moray Cooncil is damnt near the top o’ the league fir recycling so ah’ll jist dae a wee bit mair! There’s nithin’ wrang wi’ improving yer green credentials ye ken - an’ it’ll aye save a bitty mair money.”

“Well be that as it may but I can’t help feel that it will present a very poor image”.

“Peer image? Am nae usin’ a photae o’ masel’ ye ken. It’ll jist be fitivver’s on the cards that ah got.”

“Noooo Convener! I didn’t mean your image I meant the image of the Council It will make us seem to be very penny pinching.”

“Abso-blooming-lootely Nigel, cos ‘ats jist fit we’re aa’ aboot.”

“Well if that’s the case I can’t see that you’re saving much money anyway - what with the cost of postage these days.”

“Oh ah ken - it’s jist a damned disgrace. It costs 12 bob noo fir a first class stamp! My Granny cwid feed a femily o’ fower on that amount o’ money an’ still hae change fir a nicht oot at the pictures an’ a fish supper!”

“Please Convener we’ve agreed to keep your Granny out of these discussions.”

“Weel am nae caring – it’s still 12 bob for a stamp. I kin min’ fan that wis the cost o a dog licence.”

“A what, Convener?”

“Oh it disnae metter - ‘cos aa’ve come up wi’ an idea tae save us the cost o postage oneywey.”

“And what would that be, Convener?”

“Boy Scouts.”

“Boy Scouts, Convener?”

“Aye, ye mak’ a smaa’ donation tae the Boy Scouts an’ they go oot an deliver aa’ yer Christmas cards for ye.”

“But Convener, some of the people you send cards to are not local. How do you expect the Scouts to deliver Christmas Cards all over the country?”

“Weel I dinnae ken - maybe ane o’ them’s got a bike?”

“Convener, you can’t have Boy Scouts cycling all over the country at your bidding just to save a few pence.”

“Weel, mony a mickle mak’s a muckle an’ aam jist tryin t’dae ma bit.”

“Yes Convener!”

“Ah weel, that’s ma’ swansong. Bye bye aabody – hae’ yersel’s a Couthy Christmas and I wish ye aa’ the best for the New Year.”

Resolutions

For an easy read version of Stewart Cree's posts see Nigel's Blog above or follow this link for a full translation

“Good morning Convener - and a Happy New Year.”

“Fit like Nigel and the same tae yersel’.  Are ye a’ riggit oot for 2013 an’ rarin’ tae go –  wi’ yer shooder tae the wheel and yer nose tae the grindstane?”

“Well, actually, I’m not sure if you can put your shoulder to the wheel when your nose is on a grindstone!  However I am much refreshed after our short break.  What about yourself?”

“Well noo that aa’ the celebrations is oot o’ the wey, it’s back tae caul’ kale and porridge.  Though I hiv tae admit – so far the wither’s nae been that caul!.”

“Yes the weather has been unseasonable lately.  I heard the birds singing the other morning – quite extraordinary for this time of year”.

“Aye and aa’ the bugs that are gaun’ aboot are thrivin’ in this wither.  I’ve been hostin’ wi’ the caal for weeks and then, jist fin that seemed tae be gettin’ better, I pit my back oot, an’ I couldna’ even get oot o’ ma bed”

“That’s dreadful Convener, but you seem to be more mobile now?”

“Aye, but that’s ‘cos I wis dowsed !”

“Doused?  What on earth were you doused in, aftershave?”

“No … no…..nae doused – dowsed.  Ye ken, like fit they dae fin they’re lookin’ for waatter.”

“They were looking for water in your back?”

“No.  They were lookin’ for the sair bits.  Ane o’ my Cooncillor pals is a dab hand at the dowsing, an’ she speirt if she could hae a shottie findin’ oot fit wis wrang.  I telt her she could dae fitever she winted  - jist as lang as I didna’ hae tae tak’ ma troosers aff!”

“And so she walked over your back with a pair of hazel twigs?”

“No!  Nigel – you’re nae taakin’ this seriously!  She used a crystal on a bittie string.  And afore you say onythin’ else, I didna’ gie  tuppence for her chances o’ findin’ oot fit wis wrang”

“So you are rather sceptical about alternative medicine?”

“Abso-bloomin-lootly Nigel.  Bit, efter she fun’ the richt spot, she wraxed ma back the ither wey for a whiley, an’ ye ken this, it’s a lot better noo”

“That’s fine Convener, but might it just be psychosomatic?”

“Na, na ….it’s a sair back a’ richt an’ ‘am afa’ grateful tae her ‘cos ‘am a lot better noo.  Mind you, there wisna’ much wrang wi’ ma ain treatment – a warm toddy efter every meal - strictly for medicinal purposes ye ken.”

“And did that prove effective?

“Oh aye – bit it wis a bit o’ a job getting through nine meals a day!!”

“Really Convener that’s no way to deal with minor ailments.  Did you know that alcohol abuse is becoming as prevalent amongst those of….. er….. late middle age..  as it is amongst the younger partygoers who are traditionally thought to be the culprits.”

“Hey, fit’s this late middle age?  I’ll hiv you ken that I’m ane o’ the baby boomers - in the prime o’ my life an’ as fit as a fiddle”

“Yes apart from your cold and chest infection.”

“Oh – aye – but….”

“And your dicky back.”

“Aye but ….”

“And your sciatica and flat feet.”

“Hey min - wait a mintie!  You’re maakin’ me soon’  like a condemned building.  I micht hae ane or twa minor ailments, an’ ‘am maybe nae as good as I aince wis - but I’m as good aince as I eywis wis - so pit that in yer pipe and smoke it!”

“Ah well - that might be difficult because I ‘ve given up smoking - it’s one of my New Year resolutions.”

“Oh weel deen Nigel!  I ken it’s nae easy ‘cos I wis a smoker masel’”. 

“You smoked Convener?

“Oh aye, I stopped the day I wis elected.  Bit ower the years I think  a smoked athin’ there wis - frae Woodbines to Bogie Roll.  Cost ma a fortune and did ma nae good ata’.  So I wish ye every success wi’ yer New Year’s resolution.”

And have you made any resolutions yourself Convener?

“Oh aye -  ‘am gaun tae cut doon on fattenin’ foods.  In particular, marzipan, macaroni and brie”

“But why those in particular?”

“’Cos I canna’ stan’ ‘em!  So, if ‘am goin’ tae hae ony chunce o’ stickin’ tae ma resolution I reckon I should start aff wi’ that lot an’gie masel’ half a chunce”

“Half a chance?  But surely there’s no point if you don’t like these things already.”

“Aye - bit there’s nithin to say that I couldn’a start to like them.  I didna’ start likin’ Tiramisu  ‘till I wis forty year aul’.”

“Convener - Tiramisu wasn’t invented until you were forty years old!”

“(*^&$!!!”