Big Stone Gap | Wendy Welch: Books, Yarn, Cats, Opioids

Jack’s Wednesday guest post is on time for a change – – –

As we head towards Christmas we will first of all encounter the winter solstice – the shortest day of the year. Of course that’s no coincidence as most Christian celebrations throughout the year align with pre-Christian festivals.

The solstice was celebrated as the point where the days will begin to lengthen and the next growing season could be anticipated. In Scotland the sun was encouraged through the lighting of bonfires and fire festivals. One example is the ‘burning of the clavie’ at Burghead which continues to this day. Of course the yule log is another link back to these ancient times as are the candles on the tree.

I grew up in Scotland where at this time of the year daylight doesn’t appear until ten in the morning and goes around four in the afternoon. In fact, in the northern isles of Orkney and Shetland the days are even shorter right now. There is a well-documented condition all over northern Europe called seasonal affective disorder (SAD), a form of depression which occurs in alignment with the winter months.

Here in SW Virginia it isn’t as bad as it is further north, but as I write this it’s dull and sleeting outside and the lights in our house are on at eleven in the morning.

Many people, including myself, have been significantly restricted throughout the year by the pandemic, but we have been able to do work in our yard to keep us occupied and sane. But with the lack of daylight and the drop in temperature that is much less possible.

I never really suffered from SAD but I have to admit that on the evening of December 21^st I would be cheered by burning a few yule logs in our fire pit and beginning to see the days start to lengthen again!

Jack just scrapes over the line with his Wednesday guest post – –

Like most people I have recurring dreams and in one of mine I still have all the cars I owned in my youth but can’t remember where I parked them around my home town of Dunfermline. As long as I can find one I can get to work but where are the others?

So that’s a good excuse to describe these cars in the order that I owned them –

The first was a 1938 Austin ‘Big 12’ which I bought from a workmate in a share with a couple of friends in the late 1950s. It lasted until the tubes started poking through the tires and the muffler fell apart. I was playing banjo in a New Orleans style jazz band so it had a musical send off on its last trip!

The second was an Austin Mini that had seen better days – full of rust and didn’t last long.

The third was when I hitch hiked to Bedford in England and then shared with friends – a 1935 Austin 7. It had cable brakes that never worked but it brought us back to Scotland eventually with smoke coming out around the gearstick every time we climbed a hill!

Fourth was another mini and this time the van version and in better condition so it lasted longer.

Then I got a Morris Minor – the British equivalent of the Volkswagen, that predated the Mini. My main memory is having the cylinder head out and on the kitchen table while I re-ground the valves!

After that a Triumph Spitfire that had the infamous transverse rear spring which produced my first ‘near death experience’. Wet leaves on the road which resulted in cartwheeling down the road from front to side to rear etc. I still have a scar on my forehead from the rear view mirror!

Following that came the most famous one – my 1962 MGB Roadster which was sold to a friend and eventually back to me again to grace the roads of America.