India in Contrast

I saw bits of two programmes on telly tonight both filmed in India.

They were both beautiful but in very different ways.

The first one was Unreported World about the gruesome murder of members of the lower caste system by those in 'higher' castes like the warriors as they rebel against the caste system that regards them as untouchables. OK depressing? No. It wasn't done that way, the child of the lower caste being interviewed about being shut in a dark toilet cubicle for daring to ask to go to the toilet, wasn't depressing. And when they were accused of being rat-eaters as a put down by teachers in class it was followed by a rat-hunter digging out rats and his children cooking and eating them on a makeshift fire, horrible as that was to see it also wasn't put forth in that way. They came across in a very dignified, peaceful and determined manner which was amazing to see.

The other was in Natural World showing tigers in the most splendid surroundings. I'd heard the story about why animals are striped because it breaks up their outline - which it probably does - but as the tigers were moving through the grasses it was like a strobe effect which just looked like the grasses moving in the wind - becoming harder to see. Anyway there has only ever been one filmed tiger kill, and they finally managed to get a second on film in the programme. They are incredibly rare for all the usual reasons like loss of habitat, poachers etc. The environment seems different to Africa, less harsh and more sensual.

So in hugely different ways they were both about living life in a beautiful way in India

Tats

This may come as a wee bit of a shock to those of you who know me a wee bit. I am really drawn to tatoos. I don't have any, and to be honest the idea of getting something that you are stuck with for life is a bit of a stupid thing to do. I had a friend who got a big massive one that as far as I can recall was a copy of an obscure 80's metal band Tigertailz album artwork. One part of me thinks what a really dumb thing to do, when he is 60 what will he say to his grandkids. There is another part of me that isn't so full of condemnation.
I saw a girl totally covered in tats at QM Union in Glasgow, and thought, I like that!
Apparantly the name comes from the old way of applying them with an ivory thing - it made a 'tatoo' sound when you hit it, the first hit was tat, the oo was it hitting skin.
There is a bit of a spiritual element to them I think. Possibly less so when it is Tigertailz or the grim reaper. I do like the Maori ones, the part of me that is really drawn to indigenous peoples likes it. I think tats are an extension of drawing as a child.
So that's me got that off my chest!! (which if it was a tatoo wouldn't have been so easy). I've no intention of getting one.

Assortment of entombments

My favourite walk from Glasgow is in the Kilpartick hills to the north of Glasgow. After a few fields in the Cochno Estate owned by Glasgow University (where if you are in luck you can see the cows with plugs in their sides the vets use to sample their stomach contents) some steep open moorland takes you up to the wilds of Jaw Reservoir. It used to be stocked with trout but that no longer seems to be the case with no fishermen ever there these days.

I've started to begin my walk in a narrow strip of woodland and have in the past followed its crooked shape for quite a long way round the fields, which though the ground is relatively clear the best path isn't always obvious. I could hardly believe my eyes today when I came across a small graveyard. with only 3 burials in it in the woods on a slightly elevated point. It must have been built in the time when Glasgow was no more than a village and other places long since swallowed up by the urban expansion like Rutherglen were distinct burghs. I took some pictures and gleaned this information (but I missed photographing the first wife's details, oops).

Anne Henrietta Bruce (infant daughter of Anne) died 22/10/1876

Claud Hamilton Hamilton (St Barns, Cochna and Dunmore) 10/04/1823 - 20/08/1900

Henrieta Anne Bruce 28/06/1850 - 27/01/1911 (married to Claud)

Interesting that Claud married Anne, 27 years his younger, though she was only a widow for about ten years. I wonder if he anticipated a large family?

I think it is quite unusual to find a private graveyard. I'd be interested to know what the law has been on it. The only other remotely located grave I've seen is a mausoleum on the uninhabited, wild and isolated western side of the island of Rum.

There were a few trees down from the recent storms. The Rhododendrons had suffered too. One pine tree near the graves had seeded over bedrock so its roots were just below the surface. Its amazing that it had grown to a really mature size without previously succumbing to a gale.

A pair of buzzards are always up in the air calling out over the fields when I am there - one of them flew low down and perched on a distant branch - I could see it through my binoculars on a bough, making its large size obvious and impressive. I tried to get a bit nearer but it was off before I could get near.

I make an effort (small one usually!) when out walking to take any litter away. One time someone left a big white Marks and Spencer's towel lying on the ground. Its a bit beyond me how anyone out appreciating the hills can leave litter and consider themselves sane. One time on TV the danger to wildlife of leaving bottles was explained; that small things crawl in and can't get back out the slippery sides, then predators try to get in to scavenge and get trapped themselves. I've never actually seen this but in one of the cans I picked up there was a small shrew, dead of course. An added danger with the ring pulls is the bit left in the can, can let an animal squeeze past on the way in but not on the way out. I was glad to have liberated the shrew from its metal entombment, glad too at it being extra worthwhile taking away bottles/cans. Angry at whoever had left the can there. They are tiny creatures shrews, to fit through a ring-pull.

I was only out for a stroll since I had to drive nearby for an estimate. Plus it being my first day of feeling better after being fluey. I passed three ladies aged about 50-ish dressed up to the 9's for a hill walk. Gore-tex 9's that is. They could have coped with a minus 30 windchill!

Once up at Jaw Reservoir it felt literally like I was recharging my batteries. As if energy was flowing into me. Feeling like that will always make me wonder about why I don't live nearer the country. One day soon I might just have to buy a house in Aviemore to get away to. But this walk for example is only 7 miles drive from Partick.

The car park I use is not the best place to leave my van. I saw the police last time I was there. Today at the start a lone car with a lady in it was sitting talking on her phone, leaving soon after I got there. On my return a similar thing happened with a young guy in a BMW, left as soon as I got there.

I'm writing this now a few days later - I googled Claud Hamilton Hamilton and got a website called thePeerage.com it says of him:

Claud Hamilton Hamilton, 12th of Barns1
M, #23028, d. 30 August 1900Last Edited=24 May 2007
Claud Hamilton Hamilton, 12th of Barns married, secondly, Hon. Henrietta Anne Bruce, daughter of Robert Bruce and Jane Dalrymple Hamilton Fergusson, on 26 November 1874.1 He died on 30 August 1900.1 Claud Hamilton Hamilton, 12th of Barns lived at Dunmore Park, Stirling, Stirlingshire, Scotland.1 He lived at Cochno, Dunbartonshire, Scotland.1 He was also known as 12th of Barns. He lived at Barns, Dunbartonshire, Scotland. He held the office of Justice of the Peace (J.P.).1 He held the office of Deputy Lieutenant (D.L.).1

Which confirms the loss of his first wife (and child). There is a slight discrepancy in the exact day of his death but it could just be a typing error with 20 becoming 30.

Down In The Valley DVD

Edward Norton plays Harlan, a would-be cowboy in this art-house film from 2004 where he has a passionate encounter with the underage girl Tobe (short for October!). There are a lot of different strands woven together through what is a relatively simple story. I glimpsed a few reviews suggesting it is about the passing of the wild west or the western film genre and particularly the heroes of those times. Sure enough when Harlan is on the run, he stumbles across filming of a wild west town scene with the cameras out of view - he can't believe his luck at finding a place where he instantly feels welcome and at home in.

Set in concrete urban Los Angeles, repeatedly the commercial jungle sprawl is given the full cinematography treatment which is painful to watch. It reminds me of Bono in live concert footage from the album Rattle and Hum campaigning against apartheid in South Africa when he drives home his point in an all too direct and uncomfortable way to a gloating and captive audience 'I'm not bugging you am I? I don't mean to bug ya'. Freeways that lace the landscape, lane after lane constantly moving like blood in some mechanical artery are given the full panoramic treatment past the point of being a necessary evil to set the scene. Perhaps the director wants us to feel the way that Harlan is feeling.

If it is a lament to the golden age of the wild west it is also an even greater lament to the legacy of that age still present in modern day America, the gun and its proliferation. And it is a lament as minor innocuous conflicts are intermingled with various armaments and even the purest relationship is insanely destroyed by a bullet.

It's also a film about alienation, principally Harlans. Despite having been given a good foster family when in his early teens (?) he seems somehow stuck in his past or previous life, probably in a more rural setting. We are sure he has a good heart but like every good cowboy he is obstinate in following it. In his wild west romanticism it was normal for girls to marry older men but sparks inevitably fly as he is blind to the modern day boundaries - he becomes completely possessive of his new love and her younger brother as things turn sour.

Harlan dislikes cars and loves horses. Contrasts between the two are liberally highlighted. My favourite being a beautiful horse trapped in a garage kicking with its rear legs in a sound remeniscient of gunshots.

Its a well thought out film and watchable a second time. Recommended!

White Bliss

An irresistibly optimistic forecast overcame my sleep urges since combined with recent snow falls meant particulary good prospects. So barely into my REM's I had to get up but it meant that I got to the mountain pass road over Ben Lawyers nice and early at about 8am just as the sun rays were having a bit of an effect.

Road conditions were a bit icy but as I got higher so did the snow, but there wasn't anywhere to turn into and besides my eyes and concentration were glued to just keep going up the way, and in theory down the other side of the pass. That is until I had to halt when I came to a stuck car near to the car park for the mountain centre. Not the worst place to be held up mind you - the views were made up of the January sun coming up, mist in the valley of Loch Tay, mountain scenery a startling brilliant white and a richly golden-coloured dawn. Although the snow was 'only' a foot deep it had thawed and frozen leaving tracks the tyres couldn't get out of.

I helped the two guys get their car into the car park, and they returned the favour - unfortunately my van weighs a lot more than the average family car - when another car appeared, the driver gave us the extra push force we needed to finally got me going and keep me going in the tracks that were carved round the car park - I was now facing down-hill again - but by then more cars came up so we were facing each other on a single track road. We got that sorted with the increasing amount of manpower (moving vehicles like chess pieces) and finally I got away - my day was in serious danger of being a wasted trip - back in the valley the memory of the scenic splendour was being squelched by the dreich gloomy mist and my spirits were a little low, worried now that my intended route was out of my reach due to the road conditions. I decided to try for it anyway by a longer way; there was lots of ice and slushy patches but I did get to the car park, two hours later than planned.

There was a good path in dryer times but walking conditions were very icy , and snow at the sides was giving way underfoot. Then out of the woods it got even harder as in parts feet were sinking in to my thighs in the white stuff. Walking in footprints was the best way to get any sort of rhythm, but it was heads-down stuff, and very tiring. I had a long rest taking pictures, and basking in the sun that wasn't unlike a sunny day at the beach.

I chatted to a teli-mark skier as he waited for his friend. The huge dump of snow of the previous week, the sun and superb visibility (plus it being a Saturday) had made it THE day of the decade to be out on the mountains. Unfortunately his usual skier friend had his parents Golden Wedding Anniversary to attend! A three-line whip I was informed.

I finally reached the top, all the better as it had been like walking in treacle. The views were exceptional, from Glen Coe to Ben Nevis to Cairngorms - Scotland was quite small really, certainly the central mountain area. The tele-mark skiers showed me the skins they use that stick to the underside of the ski and allow them to slide forward but get grip in the opposite direction to stop them sliding backwards - artifitial ones but seal skin was once used. Going organic isn't an opotion these days. Once I got to the top though, I had this desire to get an even better view by taking a hot-air baloon out of my pocket and going wherever the slight wind drifted me.

I had hoped to do a further three Munros, I started off for the second one but my legs were telling me it was really time to go. The skiers were off across more rocky terrain. If they had headed down the gully I was in they would have had amazing skiing, I had to content myself with a nice bum sledge. The depth of the snow made it really easy to descend quickly but in the shadow of the mountain the air was now very cold, as the ground levelled off it became harder again. The snow took my weight for the next part, just as well as it would have been the hardest part of the day.

The climb had taken 5 hours. I made a small detour and went in by Crieff to see Granny for an hour before her tea. There are a lot of Polish people in her home. Her husband had spent several years as a POW in Poland, though with help from local people he eventually managed to escape. Perhaps during those long years the Polish people he'd encountered hadn't been as good as the ones who risked their lives helping him escape, as she called them in the nicest possible tones of course 'buggers'. In those sorts of times maybe wasn't too bad.

That's the weekend almost over. Calves are a bit soar. I'll be keeping a close eye on the forecast waiting for the stormy skies to pass.

Chumscrubber

I watched a great film last night entitled 'The Chumscrubber' - it is a comedy but only as the story unfolds and it starts to become almost farcical does the humour start to become apparent - set in rich suburbia a tragedy at the start allows us to see the responses of a fairly large group of people that we keep an eye on in the run up to the climactic events in a cul-de-sac reminiscent of the Neighbours street. But this soap opera is far more determined to get under the surface of what's happening, or not, in it's inhabitants lives. Jamie Bell (Billy Elliot) did a fantastic job in lead role in Hallam Foe (worth a watch not just for the fact it is set in Scotland) and he does the same here too (though this film has taken 2 years to surface in UK). He takes up his character superbly well again, all the harder as he plays a troubled, loner teenager. As each character pursues their own agenda in their own isolated worlds we find some characters finding their redemption and others their comeuppance. The dark humour is what makes it so much fun to watch, satire served in a delicious serving with a great economy of effort.

What weather we had this week - I loved the stormy weather yesterday, I could smell the wild Atlantic sea , just by opening my window - in fact just sniffing where it was getting squuzed in over the seals. In the city the elements are tamed and nature is hard to sense - especially suspended 40 feet above the ground - but even when out and about it probably takes some kind of a refined sense to appreciate the moods and intricacies of a wild place - everywhere I go I think I take in a bit more of 'nature' and add it to what I know, as if I am getting to know someone better and better. Its the wild, almost naked landscapes that often mean the most to me though. The near desolate red landscapes of Australia have stayed with me more than the Blue Mountains have. The wild windswept emptiness of Assynt in the north west of Scotland pulls me back time after time, but somehow there seems nothing left to find in Glen Coe. Having said all that I do love to live and work in the west end of Glasgow. I doubt very much whether I will be here the rest of my life but it is a good way to get my cocktail of urban living and wild getaways.

New Music Yvonne Lyon and Helen Boulding

I saw this video and decided to get the album - it had a good groove man! - I got it through the post on Saturday, it ususally takes me ages to grow into new music; I'm already loving this though, reminds me probably quite obscurely of the Housemartins sort of poppy appeal when it first came out.
I came across Helen Boudling on a cd of singer songwriters and the standout track on it (other than the Tom McRae song) was New Red Dress by her - I've managed to scrape together an album worth of songs from singles eps etc, but her first official album is out in February.

Cheers

For all you connoisseurs of a good beer, if you can get your paws on one of these you won't regret it - beautifully sweet and honey-smooth , never sickly. I'd say you are welcome to drop by for a wee taste but that would be making it too easy - something of this quality ought to be hidden at the ends of the earth to keep it special. Thanks Charles. http://www.innisandgunn.com/index.htm if you want to read more.

Breaking and Entering for a living

My current reading material which being black and white will match the mini-theme of black & white images.

Today I got a phone call from literally around the corner of my abode to be the joiner present to gain entry to a deserted flat, which was the most likely candidate for a water leak to two flats below. The police have to be there if you have to break-in (otherwise I suppose you are breaking-in) and they would be round as soon as a joiner and plumber were there. That was 1:50PM because I thought "bang goes any thoughts of going up to the footy" - Falkirk v Aberdeen (it ought to be worth going to as we can't be involved in 3 dull games in a row).

The normal procedure is to force the door open with a crow bar - but (there is always a but) it was an identical setup to my own door having been renovated at the same time so I strongly suspected that the new doors and frames would not budge. I phoned a friend (!) to see if I could borrow his ladders. Why?? Much easier to secure a smashed window than a destroyed door. I hadn't even had a look at the door but the police were taking their time.

Customers often seem to have a laid back approach let's say, like they are putting the breaks on, forgetting you are at your work and need to get things done - so I had to inject a bit of energy into proceedings. I wanted to do as much preparation etc so I wasn't fumbling for tools keeping everyone waiting. So I had a look at the door I had to destroy and then came the CSI moment - that amazing fortunate 'break' which in real life happens once in a career but 3 or 4 an episode if you are a colleague of Hirashio - there was a glass skylight above the door and no metal bars behind it. I looked about for a camera but couldn't see one.

Once inside the plan was to chisel away at the frame to remove the lock keeper and open sesame! Let the plumber in to do his part.

Well kick-off came, 3PM; half-time came; 3:45PM, full-time came, 4:45PM and still no cops. I had to cancel my plans for the evening with Al and Kirsten. Agggh, trouble follows a joiner around like a cat and a saucer of cream.

Eventually a police car pulls up just as the Manchester United v Aston Villa game starts.

With an audience of four - beating a hasty retreat - the pressure on though - the front sheet of glass breaks OK, then the wire glass does the same. phew. Then I had to get into the room but feet first from standing on the top edge of a ladder, as there was an eight foot drop on the other side - heed first wasn't a very good option. But I did stretch and contort enough to get in. Inside it felt a bit eerie, as if it had been abandoned in another century or even millennium. Paradoxically it was also a little too well lived in, but it wasn't like I was in invited guest was it!

I thought I'd be a little hero and see if I could spot the leak - sure enough under the sink, the valve to the washing machine was dripping, swift turn and leak over. Plumber can go - without lifting a wrench.

Policemen were happy with the couple of dozen screws I boarded up the hole with.

Despite all the easy sitting around for the plumber and I, it was both our first break-in but all the time the unknown was hanging over us. Still it worked out in the end

As for the footie, Aberdeen scraped a draw 0-0 with Falkirk, not exactly setting the heather on fire. But I'm sure it was better entertainment than watching the scores coming up on the tele-printer.

The plastering was a success yesterday - starting to get a real buzz out of it -trying to line up another wall for next week.

Computer Doesn't Know What It's Doing - Its a Computer

I went to see Handel's Messiah yesterday at the Concert Hall - the second of January. I'm glad I went. I must have enjoyed it, at half time (sorry the interval) I really was looking forward to the next part. Last time I was there was for REO Speedwagon and Deep Purple before that. Both of them pretty good. With the classical concert there was something more 'grand' about it - with the fantastic singers and huge choir at the rear and all the other musicians -with the conductor like a wee Van Der Graaf Generator in the centre of it all - there was a living-room performance feel about it - where the performers and audience were sharing a bit of camaraderie - there's always a bit of idol worship (in the colloquial sense) when the writer and performer of the original material is there for a 'rock' concert I think.

I managed to use my 2002 underground ticket for the last time. Despite being told I had 8 journeys left at Partick, my return from Buchanan Street was halted by the ticket barrier instructing me to 'Seek Assistance' in worrying red letters - which I did only to be told 'computer says no' by the attending lady. There is something about the sickly cogs that turn around in our neo-American rules and regulation obsessed society that is inanely impersonal and incredibly disrespectful to the individual. OK rant over, I feel a little better. Now that I'm thinking about it, what about all these street cameras - I noticed a new one less than a hundred yards from my house tonight - are they really necessary - of course they aren't - everyone that goes up takes away a tiny bit from our dignity and privacy. Like global warming though its so incremental the worries of the day just drown it all out.

I plastered a bit of a wall today - and it was by no means a disaster - having done a weekend introduction at the start of December the key was practice but it would have been easy to get cold feet. Anyhow my friend also on the course was more than happy for us to get started on the walls of a room he is in the process of putting a kitchen into, so I was able to do the less visible parts. The results I would say are 'passable with care' like the road north. Ha ha.

I watched Notes On a Scandal on DVD tonight. I love both Judi Dench and Cate Blanchett. It possibly lags a little but not enough to actually want to switch it off. It was quite a disturbing movie, not in something like a weird backwater town in America having a guilty secret - more everyday - with the study of the way people can use one another to try to get close in an attempt to alleviate loneliness or get some other benefit. Available if anyone wants to borrow it.

More plastering planned for tomorrow, smaller wall which I will do all myself - lots and lots still to do better.

Happy New Year

Happy New Year to all and sundry. May you all have a happy and prosperous year.
Personally I'm looking forward to whatever it brings. Nothing dramatic planned but open to possibilities.