DORIC COLUMN

There’s a bird on a branch There’s a branch on a tree SING LITTLE BIRDIE – LYRICS BY SYD CORDELL

Here’s me baskin at the tail-eyn o anither glorious sunny efterneen sittin on een o the double cheers aneth a fantoosh parasole an lookin across at the bird table feeder. The order cam fae the boss o the hoose tae tak a brak fae tyin up the sweet peas an I hae tae admit baith bits o ootdoor furniture were presents fae twa eer back–een fin I stoppit presentin ‘Take The Floor’ an the tither on a speecial birthday–bit only noo assembl’t bi the loon up on’s recent waddin spree.

It wisna lang afore I wis at een wi nature mynin on at sang as the spurgies were tweetin awa twenty tae the dizzen in the hedge an daurin tae leave the shelter o hame tae fin an easy pickin in oor new wee hoosie, syne cam the starlins wi a convoy tae knock em aff their clingin perch. The craas an the seagulls cwid only look on in a rooze for it wis far ower sma for them bit the menace o the magpie wis ere on the tap o the hedge wytin for ony wrang meeve o the spurgies as they swappit their crumbs fae moo tae moo tae feed their bairns. A helicopter broke the reverie as it gaed roarin abeen’s, a reminder on foo man his learn’t sae muckle fae oor feather’t freens.

At sang ‘Sing Little Birdie’ some o ye will myn as comin second in the European Song Contest in 1959, sung bi husband an wife duo Pearl Carr an Teddy Johnson an, noo we’re back in at era, I winner foo mony o ye spottit es young cheil, sma-bookit an thin aboot the face, fair teen on wi emsel hostin a Beechgrove Garden Roadshow on TV an haein the nerve tae conter an even younger Carol Baxter fin she daur’t tae cut aff aa the leaves fae a sick plant handit till’s bi a member o the aadience. Losh at wis back in the early nineteen-eichties.

Fest forrit till the tither day an, back in the hoose efter beddin the straaberries, here’s a gairdenin tip for ye. I’m aye gratefu cadgin strae fae gweed fermin freens bit een o ma neebors his been usin crush’t strae fae a pet shop at’s main purpose is tae keep the guinea pigs comfy. Bi teesin’t oot it’s gran tae lie aneth the berries. Keeps him happy as weel for ere’s nae corn in’t tae breer later on.

Bit gairden forsaiken–leaving cryn’t annual plunts mangin for a drink o waater– last Setterday we hid anither waddin tae gyang till. It wis again a great day aa roon, the sun shinin doon on the bride an groom an the hale ceremony takkin place ootside the Banchory Lodge Hotel close bi the ripplin waaters o the Dee, guests aa dowpit doon in cheers wi a carpetit aisle for the bridal pairty tae win throwe. It wis something extra speecial bit I did winner gin the win wis tae kittle up, like the rubber deuk races they haud for charity we wid witness aa the funcy hats an fascinators on a madhatter’s chase as they gaed floatin doon the Dee.

Atween the “oos” an “ahs” fae the weemin fowk at aa the bonnie dresses, ma lugs prickit up on a new doric wird fae the warl o fashion–“takkinbacker”. I be tae speir mair as I thocht it micht hae tae dee wi a backpacker. Damn the lenth, it appears at es wifie–nae at the waddin I maun say–wis bein teen throwe haun on spennin days in the stores buyin claes, gies hame wi them an sure eneuch come Monday mornin she’ll be funn at the returns coonter. Wid some fowk hae the brass neck tae weer a frock eence jist for a waddin an tak it back? ......... gweed preserve’s.

See ye neist wikkeyn.