DORIC COLUMN

Robbie Shepherd

Nae silver speen! But they bequeathed to me the couthy horn speen o commonsense THE HORN SPEEN – LILIANNE GRANT RICH mither tongue an the music sae dear tae her hairt.

A lovely, lovely lady, brocht up in Glenlivet, fa made the maist o her life an infectit ithers wi that same spark, an the poem jist gets tae me as sae close tae my ain backgrun an throwe life. o the blether in sic an informal wye eekin oot aye the ither ferlie at cam loupin tae myn. I winna dwall on at for it wis jist a one-aff in support o the Society o which I’m a trustee.

“Dinna tyn’t” is their motto an there wis nae shortage o the Doric tongue as we held awa tae the Students Show in HMT a twa days later an werena tae be disappintit at the latest “Fittie Fittie Bang Bang”. I maun say the choreography an the harmonies fae the chorus wis ootstandin an weel deen tae Sophie Hamilton Pike for her imagination in gettin the best oot o the students. On that, ere wis mair nor a threid o husband Craig o the Flyin Pigs in the production. The front line artists aa got their chunce o a sang an aa were in gran form bit, is I’ve said afore, haein pit sae muckle intae the chorus wark wi parodies fae the film an local humour tae the fore, they cwid o bein singin in Japanese fyles for aa I cwid mak oot an at wis sic a peety.

The soun’s aye been a problem bit a gran nicht indeed an lang may students gie up precious study time for a fower wikks o intense rehearsin aa in aid o local charity.

Bit back tae Lilianne Grant Rich tae feenish fin she tellt’s o teachin primary skweel bairns at Glenlivit ae afa wintery day wi the fire ableeze, she wid play the piana for some hymn-singin. Suddenly es loon raise up an stridit ower tae the fire an streech’t oot his hans. She took nae notice tae start wi bit syne stoppit midverse. A feow meenitees later the loon realis’t she hid stoppit playin an gaed her a wee glance, maitter-ofact like, an said “Nae silver speen wis glintin in my mou When I emerged in clear Glenleevit air...” ‘Flee low noo and ye’ll nae hae far to fa’ “My father cautioned in his quiet and kindly way”.

The gweed aul horn speen, a needcessity in oor granny’s kitchen draaer an neist till’t the brose caup. It aften cam intae the sklaik o the day aboot the village gossip “She likit tae hae her speen in aa fowk’s brose”.

For me tho it wis at poem at wis eemaist in ma myn a wikk bi Wednesday fin I agree’t tae be a guest on stage at the monthly meetin o the Buchan Heritage Society. I pickit “The Horn Speen” as een o the poems at means sae much tae me an weel dae I myn the gran dennertime trysts set up bi Lilianne Grant Rich at La Lombarda in the Castlegate wi Esma, masel an fyles the late great fiddle player, Ron Gonella, far Lilianne wid tak oot a sma notebeuk fae her han’bag an read oot her agenda for the news ower the mince an tatties. Mair nor eence it wis oor views on the

Damn’t it’s sae true, nivver get abeen yer station an I can weel identifee wi’t. In fact I quotit at advice fin I hid tae mak a speech on gettin ma Honorary Degree award fae Aiberdeen University in 2001 an echo the wirds on the debt she owe’t tae her fowks haein bequeath’t tae her the couthy gweed horn speen o commonsense.

I cwid even feel a leg quiverin as I read oot the poem at the BHS meetin at Longside bit fit fine tae hae Morven Sivewright in chairge

Ay, on ye go wi yir piana-playin. Nivver myn me, I’m fair frozen. See ye neist wikkeyn.