A bit of a catch up.

I've been a bit quite on the blog front lately. Actually the first week or so of my  time off has been a bit quite all round - nice and peaceful and quite welcome to be honest. A bit of reading here and there, the odd walk in the country (around here that doesn't necessarily mean going a long way), and a few tunes in the garret. It seems that each successive time off has been marked with a sign of the advancement of Spring. In February there were snowdrops, March had crocuses and this month the country is covered in daffodils. Here's a wee picture of some Kirkcudbright daffodils, which help to disguise our local town defences a bit.

On the music front it's been a good week and a bit since I arrived home. We had a session in Crocketford on my very first night back and the usual monthly session here in Kirkcudbright on Friday night which has been very well attended of late. No photographs I'm afraid, nor of this afternoon where I spent a couple of pleasant hours with Martin and my father playing tunes on the patio at the Mill on the Fleet in Gatehouse of Fleet and not getting chucked out. Outside music in April - if this is an indication of the year to come then goodo!

He really deserves more than a mention in this round up blog, but Ivan Drever (below) was playing at the school a few weeks ago at a very modest ticket price which included a free glass of wine. I have a couple of Wolfstone CDs, which he was a member of in the last century and a bit's of music from his son, Kris, kicking about, but I had nothing of him on his own so I didn't really know what to expect. A thoroughly enjoyable night - you can here some of his music on his website here and a bit I've just found on Youtube here.

I photographed a chap wearing the following garment in Edinburgh last month. There has to be line somewhere where a kilt ceases to be a kilt and becomes a skirt - I fear that this fellow is on the wrong side of that line.

Funnily enough, I opened Daily Opinionated this morning to find Mr William Connolly wearing a very similar item - but it wasn't a great picture and in black and white. When I tried to surf up a copy of the picture in glorious internet technicolour, I find it's a bit better. Now Billy, just because you may be the funniest man in the world and it looks like you might have snaffled my denim jacket, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt on this one and we'll call it a kilt (just this once).

When I was passing by the Gracefield art gallery last month I spotted the following in the grass. I know where that's going I thought..........

.......and I was right.

A new piece of artwork which I quite like has sprung up at the bottom of the Vennel in Dumfries.

It has the following poem called Sons O Selgovae! by Rab Wilson ( the Selgovae were one of the local tribes during Roman times)

The faur kent Nith sweeps regally throu the Saunds,
History cairved alang its windin course,
Raxin seeventy miles oot frae its source,
A laund o broch an crannog, hillfort, duns;
Whaur, lang syne, bronze age boats aince berthed tae tred,
Tin frae Cornwall, copper frae Great Orme,
An ower yer ‘muddy ford’ the fowk wid thrang,
Tae barter skins, or huntin dowgs they’d bred.
Whyle aiblins frae his heich fort in the wuids,
Thae fremmit masts some chieftain micht hae spied,
O Roman galleys beatin oan the tide,
An suin the drumlie watters ran wi bluid.
Sons o Selgovae! Whaes fawm aince lowed –
Afore ye tint yer torcs o burnisht gowd.

Attached to the museum, Dumfries has a camera obscura mounted in an old 18th century windmill. I was quite surprised to see it wrapped up in white plastic when I was on my way to work.

When I arrived back from work, I was quite surprised to find old house at the end of Devorgilla's bridge had also been wrapped in white plastic. My best guess was that Dumfries was putting in a bid to win the Turner prize by wrapping up as many interesting buildings in the town as possible - I was thinking that they were probably round at Burn's house wrapping it up as I waited for my bus.

I reported in an e-mail to Mrs W that these were for electricity production purposes because that's what the Dumfries and Galloway Standard told me, but now that I look back, it was an edition of the paper remarkably close to April the first - Doh!! If it turns out to be true, then I shall report back at a later date, in the mean time I'm going back to my theory that the local council are trying to boost funds by winning the Turner prize.

I had a couple of bottles of Brewdogs Punk IPA the other night. The first was not so hot frankly but the second was much better. I did notice that there was a 3 month difference in the production dates of the two bottles - they were both so far inside their sell by dates that it shouldn't have made all that much difference but they were most definately not the same beer.

The woods are full of bird song at the moment (well not right now because it's 9 o'clock at night) and it's all very lovely. Most of our feathered friends stick to chirps and cheeps and the odd hoot. The blackbird of course sits at the top of the tree at twilight and gives us the most delightful song but he's not alone in the bird world for expert singing by a long chalk. The festive season being long over, the robin has been freed from his Christmas card duties. This little fellow was sitting in a tree giving it laldy the other day and didn't seemed inclined to fly off when I took his picture - I think he might be giving me a bit of a dirty look though.

High Banks farm cup and ring markings

On my penultimate full day at home we were blessed with some glorious weather. Being the first such day for a week or so, I decided to take full advantage of it and set off in search of the High Banks farm cup and ring makings.

Not content with the sun splitting the sky, I had the moon out as well.

Cup and ring markings are fairly common in Galloway. One of the signs here abouts of early civilisation, they are thought to be about 4000 to 5000 years old - that puts them in the neolithic period to the early bronze age. Nobody really knows what they were for or what they mean. The cup refers to the circular indentations in the rock and the ring refers, not surprisingly, to the carved rings, which often appear around a cup.

This first set took a bit of finding - the Ordinance Survey map I was armed with was somewhat out of date (or just plain wrong). Either way a woods had sprung up that wasn't on the map and the farmer had made an extra corner in the field. On the plus side I did find all the farm gates standing wide open which meant the cows hadn't been put out yet, so I could wander about looking for the markings without having to worry about them (or having to watch my step to carefully).

It's fascinating to think that my ancestors, all those thousands of years ago, must have spent hours on this hillside carving these out with antlers and flint tools. The cup marks here are quite clear but the ring markings are a bit more faint - I can see at least 3 sets though just looking at the picture. If it was my field, I doubt I'd be able to resist the temptation to take the grass off the rest of the rock and see what's under it because the marks definately seem to be carrying on.

At the bottom of that field, in a wood, was an an old church yard. The church itself has long gone but you can see where it was because it's interior has been planted out with a square of daffodils (this would be more obvious if the daffs were out). Thank goodness this was here, as it was quite firmly on the map and without it as a landmake I may never have found the markings.

A lot of the stones in the area have lines marked on them - generally all going in the same direction - like the one below. These are not manmade but were caused during the last ice age when a glacier passed over them.

This set of cup and ring marks are ones that High banks are most famous for. Here our forefather seems to have gone a bit wild with the cup marks - perhaps he was celebrating the invention of beer or had fallen out with his wife and didn't want to go back just yet (who's to say he was a he at all)

More markings on the same outcrop.

One of a whole flock of lapwings.

On a plinth a modern carving of the coastline around Kirkcudbright with some cup and ring markings - there is no plaque so I don't know who did it - fitting I suppose as we don't know who made the ancient marks either.

Now you've got your eye in , a couple of pictures of more faint markings. Sometimes the lichen helps show up the rings.

The whole outcrop.

Take away the telegraph pole and the dykes and perhaps this is pretty much the same view as would have been seen when the marks were made.

Time to go back. After a couple of hours wandering about in fields, it's quite good to get back on a road of some description.

No idea what stream this is but is was picturesque.

This partridge seemed pretty fearless standing at the side of the road - just as well I was only armed with a camera.

Buchanan Street Buskers

I often pass through Glasgow. For all I never plan to go there, it seems to be the hub of all my travels and many an hour is spent wandering through it's streets between buses and trains. So a few Saturdays ago (the 5th of march to be precise) I wandered the length of Buchanan Street in order to kill a little time. To me the busking population appeared particularly high that day. As soon as one sound had faded out another had faded in. Often they were just to near each other with cacophonous effects. So here, I think, is a complete role call of the street's buskers and their kin for the moment I passed by.

At the top of the street on the Concert Hall steps were collected 100 women singing and playing drums in celebration of the 100th International Womans' Day. They went by the collective name of Humdrum and by the time I arrived, they had almost finished.

Humdrum were loud - so much so that this piper had to stop and wait for them to finish. His mates drum was never going to be any real competition for the dozens of colourful and, more to the point, larger affairs pictured above.

A little noise didn't cause any problems for this chap and his football.

For a small contribution, this jolly drummer will sing about you until you are out of sight or somebody else gives him a pound.

Perhaps since busking implies some financial recompense, this young lady does not come into the category but she was providing a useful service to the community so should appear here.

This lot were called Caledonia (a name so undestinctive hereabouts that I have been unable to confirm my memory with the internet). As loud as they look and flogging CDs too, should you wish to bring the sound into your living room.

Living statues are a bit old hat now - nobody is going to be surprised by one unless they've just been released from a very long prison sentence. I'm ready to get rid of them and have Peruvian pan pipe bands back.

This chap and his Reggae tunes is out on the street almost every day. I'm surprised the council don't charge him rent for that particular slot.

I missed this lot but that's a lot of speakers for buskers - I'll bet they were loud too.

A pair of balloon sellers.

Nearly at the bottom of the street and away from the prime busking slots it would seem, this fellow wasn't nearly loud enough ........

.......to be heard over the sounds of this chap bashing out Shadows hits.

A stroll to Loopy Lorna's

Last weekend was a busy old weekend - it finished on Wednesday. On the Friday night, I went to see Ivan Drever who was playing at the school and will get some blog attention in a few days time, on Saturday and Sunday I was in Dunoon visiting my kids and on Monday it was off to Edinburgh. There's not that many photos in this blog as I was a bit laden with backpack and guitar. I was starving by the time I went into Henderson's cafe under St John Church on Princes Street so my slice of quiche and two mystery salads were gone before I thought to take a picture of them - they were very nice anyway, whatever they were.

After a quick phone call to Mr McK, my chum from auld lang syne, we arranged to meet for drinkies (that's tea and hot chocolate - he did have the young McKs with him after all) at Loopy Lorna's tea house at the bottom of Morningside Road. The day being fine and the arranged time being sufficiently far away, I decided to wander round rather than my original plan of jumping on a No16 bus. Here's some of the few snaps I did take.

The SAS supplement army budgets by doing a little painting and decorating.

This chap was tightrope walking on the Bruntfield links (as you do). It should be noted that that his teeshirted state should not be taken as an indication of the weather - it might have been nice for the time of year but not that nice.

You can't have forgotten already about the recent reappearance of Marmite Chocolate , so when I passed the Chocolate Tree shop in Bruntsfield, I felt I really should go in and get some Marmite Chocolates myself. I was informed by the shop staff that they are made locally by their chocolate magicians in Haddington or was it Musselburgh (I can't quite remember now).

Seems my wanderings were timed pretty well as I arrived at Loopy Lorna's tearoom with just enough time to study their extensive tea menu before David and the kids arrived. I've never seen such a descriptive menu for tea in my life. Below is an excerpt from the menu for the Earl Grey I decided to go for. I may drink gallons of the stuff but I'm not really an expert so all I can say about it is that it was very good. It's blended to the shops specifications by a man named Alex in Glasgow.

Lump sugar on the table is irresistible to kids - so too to their father it would seem. I liked the tongs.

When the pot of tea arrived (this is a small pot) it was complete with tea cosy.Different tables had different cosies - I had to use full restraint not to go snapping at other peoples pots of tea. For you purists, there's no teabags here - a teastrainer is provided to all drinkers.

After our cuppas it was back to David's for tea and an evening of playing tunes on the fiddle and guitar round an open fire with a glass or twoish of red wine. Actually it was two evenings of tunes round the fire at Castle McK and plenty of time during the day for wanderings with another old school friend, Mrs W, but that's another blog (lots of them).

Brilliant Carbonara Cy.