Spring Tides . . .

Alcedo, 16 February 2024 (Source : WCSP, Facebook) Alcedo means Kingfisher.
Osprey, 16 February 2024. (Source : WCSP, Facebook)
24 February 2024, Kirkcudbright Harbour, (Source : WCSP, Facebook)
24 February 2024, Kirkcudbright Harbour, (Source : WCSP, Facebook)
24 February 2024, Kirkcudbright Harbour, (Source : WCSP, Facebook)
24 February 2024, Kirkcudbright Harbour, (Source : WCSP, Facebook)
24 February 2024, Kirkcudbright Harbour, (Source : WCSP, Facebook)

WCSP is short for West Coast Sea Products.

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Grammar . . .

With thanks to boredpanda.com

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Those who go down the sea in ships . . .

“Alcedo”
Scallops
Monkfish – not the man ! – the fish !

One of the most obvious local industries is fishing, and in particular, scallop fishing or dredging. The vessel “Alcedo” is a scallop dredger belonging to West Coast Sea Products and you can see where the dredging apparatus gets hauled up at the side of the boat. In action, the derricks swing out like wings and the trawl is towed along from their outer ends – one trawl each side. The scallops are processed ashore and go all over the place to hotels and restaurants everywhere. They do how ever come up with other fish such as the Monkfish shown in the bottom picture – an ugly looking thing, but good eating.

From time to time a great pile of scallop shells appears on the quayside and then get loaded onto a vessel and taken away.

The pictures are taken from a West Coast Sea Products post on Facebook. There are many more photos on the WCSP web site – the fleet of vessels – and a gallery of all their activities, and others if you search around.

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King Challenger

King Challenger pulls into KBT Harbour, 7.30 this morning (6 Feb 24), by Steve Roberts.

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Vertigo . . .

The caption to this photograph from The Guardian (2 Feb 24) reads . . .

Pencaitland, Scotland

Labour deputy leader Angela Rayner wears tartan boots on her visit Diageo’s Glenkinchie Distillery to learn more about the importance of the industry and to talk about Labour’s New Deal for Working People

Photograph: Murdo MacLeod/The Guardian

Many years ago we visited an old malt house in Belgium which had been converted into a museum and art gallery. The original floors had been kept and were wire mesh similar to the ones in the photo above. I set out across the room unthinkingly, but part way across my legs became distinctly wobbly as I had the feeling that I was walking on thin air. I saw all that I wane to see but it required a considerable effort of mind over matter to do it.

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Idle Thoughts . . .

Uriah Heep

I always think when I see photos or videos of Jacob Rees Mogg that Uriah Heep must have been one of his ancestors. Dickens is silent on the point and leaves us with Uriah being transported to Australia – what happened after that ? Perhaps some novelist is missing a chance here ?

Uriah Heep

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Suspended . . . !

Yesterday, whilst typing a response to a post my “X” account was suddenly suspended. A flurry of emails have passed to and fro since, to little effect. Odd that it says that were I to subscribe (an expensive thing to do) I could see more posts – but in fact if the subscribe notice is clicked you go back to going round in the suspended circle. I shall, like Asquith, wait and see, and although I shall miss the contacts I have made on “X” I may well just let the thing go.

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He can’t keep hid mouth shut . . .

Assorted social media posts . . .

My parents always voted Conservative, but that was over 50 years ago, and the Conservative Party was an altogether different organisation back then. The current Conservative Party is the successor to those who marched the streets in black shirts.

This in reply to various ill informed and distinctly uncaring posts about the King’s prostate treatment . . .

“Yes. Because prostate cancer is still not taken seriously except by those of us who have had it. I hope this publicity may help to save the lives of some men.”

Peter Howard. “Good point Ian – I had mine removed some years ago and am cancer free now thank God. And like you I would encourage men to get checked out.”

Getting a bit outspoken about the awful Boris. “An out and out rotter” as my Mum would have said . . .

“Boris Johnson is a narcissistic, serial liar and adulterer – but he is also dangerous because as with Trump, Hitler, Mussolini and other populist leaders, he has a following. His problem is that he would like to lead but does not have the ability to do so.”

On various comments such as “not my Country” or “not my King” in reply to the possible necessity of introducing conscription because of the activities of Putin in Ukraine and elsewhere . . .

In 1933 at an Oxford Union debate the motion that “This House will under no circumstances fight for its King and country” was passed 275 to 153. Six years later they were doing just the opposite. Gen Z will no doubt do the same if/when the crunch comes. Just like August 1914.

Some thoughts on the awfulness that is the current Government – if it can be called that . . .

I do not think the UK can produce a person (male or female) willing and suitable for the Office of PM. I think suitable, talented, people exist, but they sensibly steer clear of our tainted politics and put their abilities to good use elsewhere.

The introduction of long delayed Brexit legislation provisions may impede the import of certain fruit and vegetables . . .

Given the amount of fruit and veg stuff that we buy currently that comes from outside this country (sometimes very far outside !) I foresee yet more empty shelves, possible real food shortages and rationing for some items. The latter already happens when we submit our Tesco delivery order.

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The Red Cross in the Middle East . . .

 
Hi,

This is a bit different to what I’d normally send.

For a start, I’m writing something that’s inevitably going to be longer than I’d usually aim for. And it’s also the first of two emails I want to share on this subject.

That’s because I’m going to update you on our work in the Middle East and Ukraine – which I suspect you’d agree is too important to cut short.

I know it’s been a while since we shared what’s happening. It’s not that our partners haven’t been working night and day – but the truth is, in any ongoing conflict, there comes a time where we worry about the impact of sending daily or weekly updates. We’d run the risk of overwhelming you or contributing to any sense of crisis fatigue.

And the information we get can be difficult and distressing to hear about, so we need to get that balance right.

But faced with some pretty bleak milestones – more than 100 days of violence in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territory and nearly two years since the conflict escalated in Ukraine – we wanted to bring you up to speed.

So I’m going to share what we’ve been doing recently (and by ‘we’ I mean various Red Cross and Red Crescent societies and members globally).

And I’m going to start with what’s happening in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territory. Over the last three months we’ve witnessed death, destruction and displacement on a staggering level – it’s an unbearable human tragedy. These are just some of our most pressing concerns in Gaza:
 

1.7 million people have no home. They're living in makeshift shelters, cars or even out in the open. It’s freezing, so hypothermia is a real threat.
Most families barely eat one meal a day. Severe food insecurity is affecting 80% of the population – a number that’s only going to rise.
Disease outbreak is a very real risk. Largely driven by poor sanitation and an acute lack of clean drinking water.
Hospitals can’t run. There's no fuel. Hundreds of thousands of people no longer have access to healthcare.
Over 100 people taken from Israel are still being held captive. Very little is known about the conditions they’re in. Families are left tormented, imagining the worst.

It’s clear that it’s an incredibly volatile, dangerous situation. And you’ve probably seen that some of our colleagues from the Palestine Red Crescent Society (PRCS), Magen David Adom in Israel (MDA) and the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) tragically lost their lives while trying to save others.

Despite the risks, these teams along with the Egyptian Red Crescent Society (ECRS) continue to work tirelessly to help those affected by the conflict and alleviate suffering where they can. Here’s a few headlines on their response:
 

Providing emergency medical care and psychosocial support. Over 15,500 people in Gaza and over 3,800 in the West Bank have received emergency medical care. More than 38,100 people have been given psychosocial help.
Getting vital humanitarian aid across the border. The ERCS is playing a key role in getting items like food, water, milk, blankets, mattresses, hygiene kits and medicines over the Rafah crossing. Over 5,900 trucks have been delivered so far.
Setting up shelters. PRCS has set up 300 tents in Khan Younis and welcomed 190 families there, with the hope of expanding capacity to 1,000 tents, enough for 6,000 people.
Constructing a new field hospital. In collaboration with the Qatari Red Crescent, the PRCS is setting up a hospital in Rafah with 50 beds, an ICU and an operating room.
Continuing to call for hostage release. The ICRC continues to call for the immediate release of all hostages, and for access to them. They’ll do this until the hostages are safely home.

There’s no question that the last 110 days have been extremely challenging, upsetting and divisive.

But it’s also shown why our principles of impartiality and neutrality are so important and why the Red Cross is vital in a crisis like this. We’re not here to take sides – we’re here to help people who are suffering.

I appreciate there’s a lot to take in here, but I hope it’s been a helpful summary. My next email will focus on Ukraine and will be landing in your inbox soon.

Until then, take care and thank you.

Katie

Katie Johnson
British Red Cross

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Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race !

Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.


Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang ‘s my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o’ need,
While thro’ your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see Rustic-labour dight,
An’ cut ye up wi’ ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
Bethankit hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi’ perfect sconner,
Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither’d rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll make it whissle;
An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned,
Like taps o’ thrissle.

Ye Pow’rs wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o’ fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!


Good luck to you and your honest, plump face,
Great chieftain of the sausage race!
Above them all you take your place,
Stomach, tripe, or intestines:
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as my arm.

The groaning trencher there you fill,
Your buttocks like a distant hill,
Your pin would help to mend a mill
In time of need,
While through your pores the dews distill
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour wipe,
And cut you up with ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like any ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm steaming, rich!

Then spoon for spoon, the stretch and strive:
Devil take the hindmost, on they drive,
Till all their well swollen bellies by-and-by
Are bent like drums;
Then old head of the table, most like to burst,
‘The grace!’ hums.

Is there that over his French ragout,
Or olio that would sicken a sow,
Or fricassee would make her vomit
With perfect disgust,
Looks down with sneering, scornful view
On such a dinner?

Poor devil! see him over his trash,
As feeble as a withered rush,
His thin legs a good whip-lash,
His fist a nut;
Through bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit.

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his ample fist a blade,
He’ll make it whistle;
And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off
Like the heads of thistles.

You powers, who make mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill of fare,
Old Scotland wants no watery stuff,
That splashes in small wooden dishes;
But if you wish her grateful prayer,
Give her [Scotland] a Haggis!

Before serving the haggis at a Burns Supper, it’s tradition to address it by reciting Robert Burns’ “Address to a Haggis” which begins “Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o’ the pudding-race!”
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