Not ‘The Scottish Play’ – – –

Jack easily makes it for a change – – –

Easterhouse is a suburb of Glasgow, Scotland built in the 1960s to house folk from old tenements in the middle of the city. Unfortunately it quickly became a kind of ghetto because the designers didn’t include any amenities – no shops, pubs, cafes or any social gathering places. It was just a windswept series of high-rise apartment blocks that could only be accessed by scary elevators and it equally quickly became notorious for gang warfare and drug use!

This was the setting for one of the most bizarre gigs that my old folk-band ‘Heritage’ ever played. A lovely group of enthusiasts decided to recruit local folk to form a theater group that would perform ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ at midnight on that very night.

Easterhouse had a very unlikely potential venue for this event. It had a park (Auchinlea Park) set on a slope with the ruins of a medieval castle at the top and big old trees down the slope leading to a loch. The idea was to construct stages in the trees and the main one down the bottom. Somehow the organizers got funding to put it all together, but they then needed music – – –

auchinlea (2)

We were in the highest tree in front of the buildings and the play was performed on the grass beside the loch.

This was where we came in. We were contacted because a much better known group had pulled out and suggested us as an alternative (something that happened to us from time to time!). So a couple of nice women came over to Dunfermline and ‘auditioned’ us while we played lots of instrumental sets. They homed in on various tunes that involved fairies (you do know the ‘Dream’ story?). In the end they chose ‘The Fairy Reel’, ‘The King of the Fairies’, ‘The Fairies’ Hornpipe’ and a set of French polkas!

Having been hired and given our orders and a script, we discovered we would be the ‘Mechanicals’ (do you really know the story?). We would be in costume, be on the highest tree stage close to the castle ruins and be connected into a sound system. We would be required to play the fairy tunes when Titania and/or the kids dressed in fairy costumes made their appearance. Also, whenever the Mechanicals appeared in the script the lights illuminated our perch in the trees and we launched into the polkas.

We arrived to find there had been a power outage – resolved with minutes to spare. The performance began and was both well attended and entrancing. Lots of kids dressed as fairies hit their marks perfectly and danced to our various fairy tunes.

What we didn’t know was that directly under our tree was the route from the nearest pub back to the apartment blocks, and coincidentally under our tree was the favorite resting place to consume the ‘carry out’ to bolster the courage needed by the transients to face their wives (the Tam o Shanter sub-plot).

We came to a significant ‘Mechanicals’ point and launched into our Occitan polkas! We finished and from under our tree during the following silence came an insistent and repeated call – “see us anither tune on the banjo Jimmy”!

What non-Glaswegians should know is that any stringed instrument there is referred to as a banjo (just ask harper Billy Jackson), while any random male person is addressed as ‘Jimmy’.

We tried to hunker down and ignore the pleas from below and also knew that we would be required shortly to play another set of fairy tunes – – -. However, after an interval our friends finished their libations, decided they were seeing and hearing alcohol induced fantasies and headed home to face the realities.

The play was brilliant but the really funny part is that those polkas were led by that most Scottish of instruments – the banjo!

 

Branching Out – –

Jack hits the ground running and meets the deadline – for once – –

Regular readers may recall that I’m no fan of gardening. This goes back to my earlier life in West Fife, where the earth tends towards solid clay. So solid, in fact that I once fashioned a frog from it, let it dry in the sun (it does shine occasionally in Scotland) and couldn’t break it with a hammer! The soil was near impossible to dig and the only things that grew were weeds –

In profusion – – –

The odd thing is that my childhood hero was my Grandad, who was an enthusiastic and successful gardener. He grew vegetables and fruit for our table and roses in the front yard. But I do recall he had to dig an awful lot of horse manure in to get the ground into condition.

When Wendy and I married and moved to East Fife I was astonished at how easy it was to dig our back yard and plant potatoes. But it didn’t turn me into a gardener – the non-gardener seed had been sown long before. I grew up thinking that trying to grow stuff was some kind of Calvinist punishment for past or future sins.

But there are some outdoor chores you simply can’t get away from and for me that has been trees and grass. When we moved to Big Stone Gap we found we’d inherited three heirloom apple trees, a pear tree and a peach tree. I managed to allow one apple tree and the peach tree to die and then tried to trim one of the other apple trees, nearly killing it as well. The grass became less of a problem when I purchased a used riding mower (that’s also when I really became an American!).

Our new dwelling here in Wytheville has a big backyard with four enormous walnut trees and more equally big but more nondescript ones. The walnuts aren’t near enough to pose a danger but some of the others definitely did. One was looming over our house and the garage and the trusty odd-job man we inherited with the house took care of that. But maybe it’s just because I have a rechargeable cordless chainsaw that I eyed the smaller one that was, nevertheless, encroaching on the power line feeding the house. Or maybe I just can’t see a tree without wanting to trim it!

tree

The last branch’s last stand!

tree2

Et voila!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

However, everywhere from New Gilston to Wytheville, Wendy and I have gotten quite good at growing tomatoes from seed, so maybe there’s still hope?