Sunday, 15 July 2012

Ant Music

Hey Bloggers,

Don't know if Facebook has officially killed the blog yet, but we High Wall lads certainly havnae been so active o' late. Time to change aw that.

I will kick off wi' this wee tale. Did a bit o' gardenin' the day. I was workin' the hoe aboot a wee rockery when I saw a right fair dose o' ants goin' radge. I eventually lifted up a wee flat slab and saw the entrance to a whoor o' an ant colony. Not only was this the entrance, but also a full on nursery, rammed fu o' eggs of various sizes, wi loads o' tunnels leading of in aw directions. Ants were everywhere, runnin' aboot like mad things.

I found some auld school ant powder in the shed and set tae work. Little did my Formicidae friends know that I was a scholar of the "Alien" trilogy as well as being well versed in the documentaries o' Mr Attenborough. Add in the fact that I had a penchant for killin' beasties dating back tae ma High Wall childhood wi Arkos, and the outlook for Mr Ant wisnae guid.

I gave the eggs a right guid blast o' powder and the ants immediately reacted by takin' the eggs tae "safety" doon intae the bowels o' the nest. A fatal mistake.

Half an hour later and there is nae ant activity. Job done..

Everything I know about gardening, I learned from Lt Ellen Ripley, the Colonial Marines and the beasties of the High Wall.

Saturday, 19 May 2012

Every Dug has its day

A load o' stuff has happened since we last posted including the passing o' ma dug Buddy (above), Arkos' dug Bridie and ma auld cat Murph. No a great year for the pets, though the vets made oot like bandits as usual.

Anyway tomorrow I am off to the biggest sporting event for Auld Reekie in living memory, namely the 2012 Scottish Cup Final between Edinburgh rivals Hearts and Hibs. It is the first final beween the teams since 1896, a shocking statistic for our proud city when you think about it.  

Now Bobrob and Arkos arnae fitba men, and maself, well I'm no too bothered aboot the game much these days, but I was always a Hibby and I find the whole thing about the fact that we havnae won the Scottish Cup in 110 years fascinating. I have seen great Hibs teams in my lifetime in the 70's and briefly in the early 2000's. The post war team o' my fathers generation were a different prospect all the gither. They were proper world beaters. But alas none of them could win the Scottish Cup, leagues yes, league cups yes, but no the Cup.

Tomorrow a Hibs team comprising of loan players and average journeymen will step onto Hampden, 90 minutes away from "Legends of Leith" status. If they do it then the irony will not be lost on me, but fuck it  I will party like a motherfucker anyway.

My Faither is a lifelong Jambo and the nice thing aboot Edinburgh is that fitba rivalry is in the family, in the generations ect. Not ingrained hatred, just a love o' yer chosen team. When I phoned my dad tonight to say that  if we win I might need a bed for the weekend celebrations, he said "I was thinking if you lot have had  the patience to wait 110 years for the Cup, then surely you won't mind waiting a wee bit longer"

Once a Jambo, always a Jambo...