DORIC COLUMN ROBBIE SHEPHERD

I delved my yaird I planted buss an floo’r, I watched the bonny buds an’ floorish braw FAT’S THE EESE? – J.M.CAIE

A gweed freen in a diplomatic kyn o wye wis on the phone speirin foo the sweet peas were daein, remindin’s that it’s been a fylie since I gaed the gairden a menchin in es wikkly screid. Weel if the truth be tell’t, in es tribblesome times, atween the Covid an the widder cheengin bi the day, I fyles feel wabbit an scunnert thinkin – fit’s the eese?

Lat me tell ye at it’s been anither gran eer – tho an earlier season for oor pride an joy o aa the flooers – an the verra sicht an smell yet as newly pickit blooms sit ere in a vase afore me, gaein the hairt a boostie an winnerin gin at oor age if we micht try anither eer. Nae at es aaler body o mine his made the same efforts as in the eers fin I ees’t tae hae them on the show benches, bit mair not a thoosan blooms aff some ninety plunts fae seed is verra rewardin an a lot o the credit his tae ging tae the heid gairdener ersel for aa her attenchin an the help, noo an an, fae wir very eident jobbin gairdner, Nick.

Weeds, weeds an mair weeds hae hin a field-day bit anither saitisfeein feelin comes fin we baith survey the newly turn’t ower airth showin aa the bonnie annuals an herbacious at their best.

Bit meevin on, on renewin wir broon wheelie bin permit online syne speirin for a second wheelie tae cope wi mither naitur’s excesses, fit a chauve haein tae gyang online. I felt as if I wis traivellin throwe space – beam me up Scotty – pressin buttons een tae saiven, syne anither bank o numbers takkin’s intae space like the invaders roon the toonhouse offices a thoosan times an endit up wi peyin for the permit nae eence bit twice an landin up wi three permits. Feckless fingers an thochtless thooms say nae mair! Sae neist day it wis haet-fit tae Marischal Square an thanks tae aa the helpfu staff, een steppin forrit at the entrance archwye tae see fit wye I wintit inside an kind help fae then on, aathing wis sortit oot an noo I hae a second bin, deliver’t jist a three days later nae doobt gled tae get rid o the muckle gawkit gype.

Bit tae quote fae the sang o the Big Kilmarnock Bonnet:

‘That’s nae a ma tribbles yet, I’ve ither eens beside’

Nae time tae dauchle ony mair on at the day bit jist the saga o the barra that widna rowe, the tyre aff a lichtsome barra bocht aboot ten eer syne fair connach’t an Esma took it upon hersel tae buy a new wheel...Weel receipts – debits an credits for returns – cam fleein aff the tills fae B&Q, Screwfix an losh kens far as she keepit treetlin back an fore tae nae avail. Result o her endless eerans his hin us wyin up the cost o a new wheel anent a spleet new barra sae the peer aul een’s awa tae the skip.

Eneuch, eneuch an here’s yer last chunce tae enter oor ongyan quiz. Fit dis these three wee phrases mean?

A) fin ae yett snibs

B) gneppin awa

C) the girss is ower its croon Jist direct yer answers tae the email address at the heid o the column or send yer letters wi yer coments direct tae your life at the P&J.

Tae feenish thinkin back tae the days afore aa es impersonal wye o shoppin I got a fair begaik tae hear at Sainsbury’s hae mince pies an Xmas puddins on the shelves since the eyn o Aagust. The wird stodgy comes tae mind bit oh for the clooty dumplin freshly bil’t wi staim yoamin oot o the hotterin pan on Christmas Eve, a smell daur I say matchin at o the Simmers’ sweet peas.

See ye neist wikkeyn.