The ReiversReturn.

Its that time of the year again. The Berwickshire reports that in preparation for the Duns Festival this years 'Reiver' and 'Reivers Lass', the Right Hand Man, the Left Hand Man, the Wynsome Maid (a Primary school child) and the Maid's attendants have all been selected. Huttonian gets a bit boring about all this and I am sure that local festivals are all jolly fun and makes for good community bonding but why on earth can the Borderers not find better role models than the awful Reivers-gangs of marauding and murdering thugs, cattle and sheep stealers and 'English' or 'Scottish' as their paymasters dictated-ad hoc, ad hominem and ad nauseam. Of course further south we have Robin Hood who was a sort of up market reiver or Dick Turpin the Highwayman with a conscience. Thugs certainly but at least their reputation is founded more on robbing the rich and befriending the poor than on out and out villainy. Our common or garden Reiver had no such pretensions to virtue and are better consigned to the land fill sites of history rather than gloriously recycled every year and not celebrated for the low life they were.

Mind you some of the Borders Establishment families can claim (or rather not avoid) direct descent from the most notorious Reiver clans. And not a few of those with handles to their names are descended from titled thugs who were no better than Reivers in what would now be called their life style. This week's Berwickshire also reviews a new book 'The Border Line' about our 'colourful area' Paxton (sadly not Hutton) gets a special mention by Eric Robson, the author:

' a beautifully proportioned demonstration of how the hoodlums who ran the Borders at the time of the Union of the Crowns adapted to King James reforms and continued to prosper'

I suspect it is Paxton house which is 'beautifully proportioned' rather than the sprawling and expanding village-and who the hoodlums were then and how they have prospered since we will need to let dear bloggees work it out for themselves. Or like Huttonian be off to Amazon to acquire this work which describes a walk from the Solway Firth to Berwick-105 miles and not a bus in sight. In that respect at least, nothing much has changed.  ¶ 5:40 PM (2) comments

 
A Dead Pheasant Sketch?

The wife's frenetic gardening was somewhat spoiled yesterday by finding the body of a Pheasant amongst the Ground Elder. Not overcome by Aviator's flue we hope but worn out after a long care filled existence. We suspect it was Cockie, Pheasant extraordinary and transmorgrified into a Peacock by the hacks on the Mail on Sunday in search for a more colourful spin to the story about the blogging ex-ambassador.

If it is Cockie who has gone to the great automated feeder in the sky (and he may yet surprise us all by returning as a non-ex Pheasant) then here is the last known photograph taken on Friday. He was in a very jumpy mood and not pleased to find his feeding area usurped by two partridges. But well enough to give his Famous Grouse impersonation. But he was obviously very irritated-indeed terminally so?

No flowers please. But donations of peanuts gratefully accepted.

  ¶ 9:20 AM (0) comments

 



After a very fast start the new house at Hutton Mill has not made much apparent progress in the last month. (See previous post) but it will be an impressive building-it is still away ahead of the Village Hall having started some time later. Curiously the design has the biggest windows at the front and meaner smaller ones at the rear where there is a stunning view including the dramatic Beech tree on top of the Whiteadder gorge.
Despite the reassurance of the Blackthorn Spring blossom residents of the new property will need all the warmth that modern technology can afford-the depth and shape of the gorge shuts out all sun light from late October until mid March-fine if your house is on the north bank but not on the southern bank as is this dwelling. If you suffer from SAD bring your sun lamp or stay in the Home Counties.  ¶ 9:27 AM (0) comments

 




ABSOLUTE BULLOCKS Many apologies the cows mentioned in a recent post, on closer inspection, are n't. But are Bullocks. Bulls less encyclicals. Sort of Bully Beef in waiting. Skittish and having fun while there is yet time having been cooped inside all winter.
The white one, the runt of the litter, was taken at speed caught in the act of doing a one point turn as he suddenly changed his mind about getting to know Huttonian better. Living in a mixture of curiosity, aggression and downright terror and not (just like the rest of us) seeing many humans in these parts their technique appears to be to send a scout and if there is no warning fart the herd charge over-then overcome by their own temerity charge off again farting furiously in our general direction. Only one had his horns and seemed to be in charge, throwing quite a lot of weight about-another variation one the bully beef theme, I suppose?  ¶ 9:20 PM (0) comments

  A rare visit to Ould Reekie-the first for well over a month and my luck with GNER ran out. Did have to chose the only late running train of the day (so far) which by the time it crawled into Berwick was 'very late running' and by Dunbar it became a ' very late running any inconvenience is regretted and GNER wishes to apologise' sort of train. I wonder if it will reach Aberdeen today, if at all. The duty station master confided that the problem was at King Cross as the wrong crew turned up and late or the right one didn't-same result. Not that this was admitted by the on train crew-'technical problems' naturally

Anyhow here Huttonian is, in his favourite Cyber Cafe where a very learned academic looking person on my left is typing away in Russian (A language I recognise, but never mastered from years of sitting next to Soviet colleagues at the UN-UK and USSR sat chummily side by side and delegates were often chosen because of exceptional peripheral eyesight which still serves me well) My neighbour Professor Russki-Ofcourseikoff is seemingly engaged in designing something which resembles a cross between a nuclear power station and an ICBM so presumably will need to be put into Farsee to maximise its sales potential. It might not come to that as his other neighbour has the sallow complexion and close cropped hair of a Mossad agent-hopefully the capsule containing a little known Latin American poison is slipped into the Prof's Latte and not mine. Embra has a sinister side if you only know where to look.

But you do need good peripheral vision.  ¶ 10:54 AM (0) comments

  Environmental issues are once again at the forefront of the thinking Borderer with the activities of the Borders Real Nappy Network being publicised in today's Berwickshire. Apparently 8 million disposable nappies are thrown away a day in the UK -three billion a year; some land fill sites are mostly nappies. The real Nappy Network is promoting the use of the old fashioned re-useable nappies to cut down on this avoidable waste and the paper carries a happy snap of a group of real nappy users, 4 of whom are babies. What to do with the nappies after toilet training I hear you cry-well they make excellent dish clothes (boil and rinse first) and have other uses such as key board covers, emergency hankies and occasional scarves wearable in our chilly spring. The also make quite dandy cravats for up market social occasions for the Beau Brummel in your life (to quote promotional material being worked on by the Hutton Think Tank-Media, ideas and Spin section)

Not all green mothers stay the course with all the washing etc of the reuseable nappies when bringing up a hyper productive child. One we knew felt obliged to return to the disposable type. She was thus liberated from one aspect of motherood and made quite a killing on E-Bay with her collection. Selling them as a' limited edition' caught the popular mood apparently  ¶ 12:06 PM (0) comments

 
An old (in all senses) golfing partner has just reminded me of Huttonian's glory days of golfing in Norn Iron. When one's handicap was a quarter of your age-I was then 23 -and I would settle for a similar proportion now. The reminder came in the form of this photo taken in about 1960 at Ardglass Golf Club, County Down, Norn Iron. Huttonian is in the white sweater rather patronisingly watching one of his opponents line up a putt in the reasonably certain knowledge that he would miss while having a fairly short one himself. This hole was mostly sea-no fairway and was a good one to put behind you. Not Royal Coubty Down (PBUI) but worth a visit.  ¶ 11:02 AM (0) comments

 



After three weeks the Village Hall has progressed-with the original gang of four supplemented by other skills-sparks, chippies, plumbies (?) to add to the brickies. Its all very Aufweidersehen Pet without the subtitles. The Hutton Think tank is working on a documentary about the Hall called (working title only) 'See You Later Moggie' *
Huttonian can reveal exclusive coverage of the latest developments including a first of the interior of the hall itself which apparently is about the same size as the old hall main section. The other interior shot taken from what will be the front door is the area which will house the Post Office and the Loos. I apologise for yet more daddodils marring the fullfrontal shot-they are weed like this year and get everywhere.

* 'Moggie' may not be an exact translation of 'Pet' which is Geordie rather than German-Blogg-ed. Someone should warn HTT?  ¶ 5:04 PM (0) comments

 


Its good to back in the Merse-Spring is really Sprang but I do wish we could exercise some restraint with the Daffs. Even Mr Wordsworth would have been turned off by the sheer volume of these plants around here. The Old Manse garden is restrained compared with the orgy of yellow outside the walls. Generations of past villagers must have spent their waking hours planting the bulbs and their children or incomers like Huttonian are possibly regretting it as they walk (or more likely drive) past rows and rows of homogeneous daffodils dozing and nodding their heads as they sleep off the winter. And not just Hutton-the roads are hedged in by this sea of yellow-not as bad as rape admittedly but on this scale it does amount to visual pollution of the highest order. At least 6.2 on the Yuchter Scale.

It is good to see the Hen Partridges back again-a few months of blissful existence before the Guns of August.
And to show summer is nearly here-or as near as it usually gets in these parts the cows are back in the field north of us. Cows usually look bored and unenterprising-that's what a cow is for. But this lot is well lead. Every so often (as in the image-click to enlarge) Top Cow says 'Come on Ladies, time for an exciting new voyage of discovery' And off they go,single usually single file once they have sorted themselves out, following the leader to nowhere in particular, mooing gently 'How very interesting' (a bit like a Royal Walkabout) and then wandering back again. Fun as we know it, perhaps not be but it is better than sitting disconsolately on damp grass and thinking beef.  ¶ 11:02 AM (0) comments

  Disgruntled Commuter (see link) has posted about the difficulty of finding a way through Bilbao by car. Bilbao, I can assure DC, has nothing on Selkirk. Selkirk is in Scotland; they speak English. The road signs are in English. The map that Huttonian was following from Stranraer to Hutton via the pretty route was in English. THe blow by blow instructions from the AA website, painfully detailed, were in English. But Selkirk has a problem. North means South and the Vicer the Versa. We came in from the West, we turned south, we proceeded south, we found that we were heading north. We retraced out steps and we folowed our map and our instructions. WE headed south, we proceeded south, we found we were going north. 4 times. We asked a nice man with a dog. We followed his instructions; we retraced our steps; it was deja vu all over again for the fifth time. South doesn't work in Selkirk.We abandoned south-(I had said regretable things to the wife who was driving. I apologise; it was not her fault) -it was a good move we went north and we reached Hutton via Melrose and Earston rather than via Kelso and Coldstream. It took half an hour longer than we reckoned, it shortened our lives emotionally. But we have seen Selkirk-several times. No need to go back.

Stuff the pretty route.  ¶ 9:15 PM (0) comments

  Weather moderated overnight and we are promised only a breezy crossing by the Norn Iron weather people-breezy being anything from a gentle zephry a beakerful of the warm stout to a routemaster felling hurricane. HSS Stena had technical problems all yesterday running 2 hours late-here again this can be anything from MacDonalds running out of ketchup to a rogue U-boat in the Irish sea. However all is said to be well today with vessels operating normally.

So to the Merse by this evening. If we are spared, of course  ¶ 8:46 AM (0) comments

  newcastle storm coming We sail tomorrow-if motoring across the Irish see in a floating gin palace can be called sailing. And this is what we don't want to see in Dundrum Bay. Wind rising, rain coming, glass dropping
  ¶ 6:53 PM (0) comments

 
Dundrum castle. Built in King John's reign-one of the great castles constructed by theNormans to pacify the savage Irish. Dundrum is a vastly growing little village with property prices going through the roof.If you want to buy a wee pied a terre you are probably too late.
huttonian  ¶ 3:51 PM (0) comments

 
A closing shot of the approach to the 14th green on the Annesley Course at Newcastle. A good way to end the holiday
huttonian  ¶ 1:15 PM (0) comments

  So our last day in Norn Iron for a wee while. We are back to the Merse Stena HSS always permitting tomorrow. Had my last game of golf this morning and was just early enough to beat snake killer and beautiful dreamer to the first tee on the Annesley Course (MPBUI). No sign of trolley follower until at the fifth he appeared from nowhere in front of me having I suspect walked straight out from the club house to steal a march on the early golfing afflicted. He was in danger of severely holding me up as his battery (or at least the trolley's) started to run down and refused the hill at the sixth. His drive had also refused the hill and ended up in a very colourful gorse bush followed by very colourful language. He reluctantly waved me through with very clenched teeth (don't try that at home) and I saw him still there on my way back thrashing the vegetation with a large sand wedge. No way was he going to give up the search whilst Stalker and his Alsatian ball finder were hovering in the vicinity-if there is one thing worse than losing your ball it is someone else finding it and this one had looked nearly new-perhaps his wife's Christmas present or millennium gift. I silently wished him luck and tried to put a mental jinx on Stalker and his large dog-they were obviously prepared for a long wait and were unwrapping their sandwiches-although I couldn't be sure exactly what Stalker was eating. I know Ally is partial to Cat and lettuce.

Next week to Duns. If I am spared.  ¶ 11:46 AM (0) comments

  katy_hat I am again endebted to disgruntled. Ms KB reherarsing for a visit to Ascot, Angleterre. Sorry about that CB Bloggee
  ¶ 6:35 PM (0) comments

  katy_nervous I could not resist this from Disgruntled Commuter's Flickr site. Mr P and Ms KB in the Pyrenees. KB knows that Big Brother is right behind her and she is not sure that this is a good idea given Mr P's well known skill with swings.
  ¶ 5:28 PM (0) comments

 
When Huttonian was here as a lad Newcastle was a resort of about 3,000 people.Now the population is about 10,000 rising to over 30,000 in the summer. This image shows about half the town polluting the once fair countryside around Dundrum Bay. The big factor in the dramatic increase in the summer population is the growth of caravan 'parks'This one is one of the smaller ones.
huttonian  ¶ 5:11 PM (0) comments

 
This is the caravan site in close up from the slopes of Drinahilly. For a sight of the full horrors of this blot on the landscape click on the image. I suppose it does serve the useful purpose of allowing city folk to escape Belfast and breath a little. Berwick has its caravans but not on this scale.
huttonian  ¶ 5:06 PM (0) comments

 
This is the main reason for going to Kilbroney. The path up the mountain goes through a very ancient oak wood-sadly the only remnants of a vast forest which covered most of the Mournes and which was destroyed by man over the centuries. These oaks were valued for ship building in the 16th and 17th centuries
huttonian  ¶ 5:58 PM (0) comments

 
This is not a walk for the unfit. A sharp climb of over 1200 feet up the side of a cliff. Less fun going down as the path is muddy and slippery
huttonian  ¶ 5:54 PM (0) comments

 
The wife liked these in the oak wood. Wood anenomes, apparently. A sure sign of spring and a change from the ubiquitous Daffodils which tend to get up your wick after a bit.
huttonian  ¶ 5:52 PM (1) comments

 
On the way up to the Great Stone you pass an ancient dolmen or burial cairn-in this case completely unheralded. Not a notice around. Perhaps some of the locals are not too interested in such ancient stuff as being BTP-before the Protestants?
huttonian  ¶ 5:49 PM (0) comments

 
Thisis Clogh More -the big stone in the Gaelic, thrown by some unfriendly giant in the general direction of his rival Finn McCool-the original Irish Giant-son of the laid back one, in the vernacular
huttonian  ¶ 5:45 PM (0) comments

 
The view from the stone is a fine one-in this case looking up Carlingford Lough towards Warrenpoint and Newry and across to the gloomy uplands of the Irish Republic
huttonian  ¶ 5:42 PM (2) comments

  Last week end in norn iron this time around and with Newcastle likely to be heaving we decided to go south. Not South in the political sense of the 26 counties still under Dublin rule but to the very sleepy 'resort' of Rostrevor in the semi Mediterrean climate of South Down. We headed for Kilbroney Park which lies on the slopes of Slievemartin overlooking Rostrevor and which unlike its fellow forests is free and therefore a great attraction for the thrifty Ulster Scots
particularily. The main object was to walk through the ancient oak woods and climb up to the Cloigh More. Not quite as nice as a round of golf on the Royal County Down (PBUI) but given how crowded that is on a Saturday-a second best thing.

The images above give a flavour of this walk. Yes, Yes this intro should have been before the pictures but no matter you can look at the pictures again. Click on them for dramatic enlargements  ¶ 5:24 PM (0) comments

 
Across the entrance to Dundrum bay we found four groups of seals. This is one of them basking in the sun. Behindare the life firing ranges of Ballykinlar Camp. The seals feel more comfortable with the hi-tech weaponry on their side of the channel than with unarmed citizenry on the other?
huttonian  ¶ 7:58 AM (0) comments

 
From deepest winter to a hot spring! The first sandcastles of 06?
huttonian  ¶ 7:55 AM (0) comments

 
The sea today-as a contrast to the next images
huttonian  ¶ 2:08 PM (0) comments

 
The sea in an angry mood. Not today but two years ago.
huttonian  ¶ 2:07 PM (0) comments

 
Today all the weather forecasters in the known world agreed that it would nice day in Norn Iron-even the lads from the BBC blether centre, the more harmful of whom are still thankfully on an extended Easter break share this view. And they were all right. It was amazing to be playing on the Royal County Down (PBUI) championship links with not a cloud in the sky, no breeze, too hot in a light pullover and the mountains glowing in the background across a still blue sea.. When it is like this it is hard to remember how cruel this sea can be when the winds get up. 13th of January 1843 saw the loss of 72 lives in the Newcastle fishing fleet (46 from King street in Newcastle) -a row of cottages known as Widows Row (now bijou weekend residences) are a testimony to the carnage caused by that storm and were paid for by public subscription. 29 years before 37 men and boys from Newcastle and Annalong down the coast died in a snow storm. Looking at the image above taken in the great storm of o4 of the sea smashing over the harbour wall-and sinking three boats at their moorings you can iamgine how it is in the open away from the comparative safety of Dundrum Bay  ¶ 1:41 PM (0) comments

  Home Thoughts from Abroad Sparked off by today's electronic Berwickshire. The extract below is from Euan Robson's 'Mound Notes'. Our MSP is on one of his favourite topics: Planning. Our local experience has been that any proposal put forward by developers to do with housing has a strong presumption for approval whatever the views of the local community. What is more heartening is that planning propsals out with the areas mentioned by the local development plan have a presumption of failure. I hope our MSP is correct as we still live in the shadow of highly inppropriate development, strongly opposed by most of the community-and in this case 'people power' seems to have kept it out of our draft local plan-pending any appeals of course. Mr R has been very helpful over planning matters and I hope we don't have to quote his words back to him one dreer day


"AS mentioned in previous columns, a Planning Bill is going through the Scottish Parliament at the present time. When enacted, the new law will bring about changes to existing legislation in several areas.Too often the planning system is seen as being there to stop things happening. Planning as the word suggests should be about how to develop for the future and engaging the community in that process. Hence there is an emphasis in the clauses of the legislation on community involvement which has hitherto been understated. Community involvement will, particularly, be enhanced in the production of local development plans. These plans are to be updated every five years with a mid point evaluation process over that period of time. The local development plan will carry greater authority. Land identified for development will carry with it a strong presumption of planning approval in principle. Conversely, land excluded in the plans for development will carry a greater presumption against development. Together this should ensure clarity for developers and local residents alike.Other changes will include greater speed and efficiency in handling planning decisions, a significant reduction in the number of small items requiring planning permission, greater devolving of responsibility to planning department officials with rights of appeal to elected members thereafter. A welcome change away from the developer providing neighbour notification to the local council doing so will be enacted as will a reduction in the maximum time allowed for a development to commence to a period of three years and there will be some restriction of appeals by developers against local authority decisions'  ¶ 10:57 AM (0) comments

 
With Huttonian's Middle Eastern job experience we were very excited to hear that an Egyptian had bought the rather grim Fish and Chippery at the Harbour and turnedit into an Arab takeaway. Sure enough it has appeared in spanking new livery: Lazeeza is the Egyptian version of Latheetha-'delicious' . We went in and were greeted by the wee (very non-Arab) girl who seemed puzzled about the suggestion that she might serve oriental delicacies: Filafel, Homous Mezze struck no chord. We do fish and chips she said. We explained that the Arabic name had raised our hopes. Not hers. Fish and chips with all the occidental trappings. No ethnic muck here.
huttonian  ¶ 8:50 AM (0) comments

 
A near neighbour sports this notice on his outer gate. A very friendly Rottweiler lives within. I prefer another dog warning we saw in the middle of nowhere in theMournes on a very isolated (private road) 'Attention aux chiens eccentrics!' More effectiveI would say.At least you know where you are with a Rottweiller and have 3 seconds to do something about it. But un chien eccentric?
huttonian  ¶ 12:53 PM (0) comments

  Much of the local Meedja are heavily taken up with the Ballynahinch shooting as reported in previous posts. There have been eyewitness accounts of the local Parish Priest adminstering the last rites to the dying driver of the car who had been shot by the police having failed to stop at a check point. The Mass in his church had just ended and the incident was just outside. How did the PP know that the victim was a Catholic it has been asked. Apparently this was the natural assumption as he was wearing a Celtic Football shirt. It seems however from his name (a usual give away in Norn Iron) that he was of a different persausion-and indeed one of the other people in the stolen car is said to have loyalist para military connections. A good book about the factionalism in the Middle East was subtitled 'Tribes with Flags' Here we have tribes with football shirts. Misleading in this case perhaps but it could only have happened in Norn Iron or, of course in Glascow. But I doubt if theScottish Fuzz would have opened fire under similar circumstances.  ¶ 12:20 PM (0) comments

  It appears that the shooting in Ballynahinch was nothing to do with terrorism, sectarianism, extremism, nationalism, unionism, men of violence or the old troubles. Just a bog standard car robbery which ended in tragedy for the alleged thief. Or at least that what it looks like from the meedja. So the metamorphis from Royal Ulster Constabulary to Police Service of Northern Ireland has not necessarily turned the RUC into a force resembling East Lothian's finest. Arms still carried as a matter of routine. A point to ponder when nicking BMWs I suppose. Better stick to Astras and do it in Duns. The Borders Boys in Blue at least take prisoners.  ¶ 7:59 AM (0) comments

 
Newcastle being even more stuffed on Easter Monday than on EasterDay we decided to go on safari looking for local fauna.
huttonian  ¶ 6:56 PM (0) comments

 
Norn Iron is well behind the Merse as far as this years lambs are concerned. Taken in Mid Down with Strangford Lough in the background
huttonian  ¶ 6:54 PM (0) comments

 
Not far from the lambs were these antique baths. One seemed full of mint sauce the other with Ketchup. Factory farming at its most visionary
huttonian  ¶ 6:52 PM (0) comments

  One tends to get a bit complacent about how much things have changed for the better in Norn Iron until pulled up by a jolt. The old 'Troubles' of only little more than 10 to 15 years ago seem very remote-the hours for instance I sat in a car in Newcastle main street as others did the shopping as unattended cars were not permitted for fear of car bombs; peering under my car before driving off in case some unfriendly person had taken exception to my official employment with HMG; the frequent road blocks manned by British soldiers; the armed military patrols creeping up suburban streets with soldiers in full battle gear scanning the roof tops for snipers; the heavily fortified pill boxes on the way to the Border and on the approaches to Belfast International airport, traffic slowed by elaborate chicanes and viscous spikes which when activated would rip your tyres to shreds. Police stations smothered in barbed wire, anti-mortar bomb devices on their roofs and guard posts with one way glass and protruding barrels of heavy machine guns.

But suddenly when all that seemed to have changed for ever and the sectarian venom relegated to the letter columns of the Mourne Observer, the army invisible, the barbed war replaced by Chinese Granite, at a vehicle check point outside the sleepy little town of Ballynahinch hallway between Newcastle and Belfast, police open fire on a vehicle killing the driver. Bang, crack, dead on Easter Sunday amidst a pile of vehicles heading to the coast full of Sunday supplements to be read in a cramped parking space with no view of the sea. And the other occupants of the offending BMW under arrest, supplements and all, presumably.

Why? Well nothing has changed here in one respect. No details beyond the briefest statement that the matter is being investigated by the Ombudsman. Were arms found?Did the car ignore orders to stop? Acting on 'information received' ? Watch this space; if you have the patience.  ¶ 10:22 AM (0) comments

 
The original Wards of Castle Ward argued about the style of the building. He wanted a Classical facade for the front.
huttonian  ¶ 5:21 PM (0) comments

 
And she wanted a Gothic rear.
huttonian  ¶ 5:19 PM (0) comments

 
On the way to Castle ward we took in Down Cathedral where Saint Patrick has a grave. This is an image of the Mournes over the grave yard-as one feller put it 'Sure wouldn't the ould Saint died for a view like that and who would have blamed him?'
huttonian  ¶ 5:17 PM (0) comments

 
On the way back to Newcastle we captured this stunning view of the Mournes with two wee showers falling into the sea in Dundrum Bay
huttonian  ¶ 5:13 PM (0) comments

 
What to do on Easter Day in Newcastle, Norn Iron-apart from eating a large organic easter egg thoughtfully laid (in) by the wife? Answer get out of it as Tout Belfast, Uncle Tom Murphy and all descend to cram the main street, block up the pavements, litter the post modern Promenade and sit in their cars until they have read the Sunday papers. An exciting and fulfilling day by the sea. Fortunately there was a rival attraction at Castle Ward-Mid Down's answer to Paxton House where there was an Easter Craft fair. When we returned from our outing it tool us about half an hour to get half a mile down the one way main street-in a sample count of 35 cars parked on the left-28 were occupied by ice creams and Sunday papers. And not one had any view of the sea  ¶ 4:56 PM (0) comments

 
Inspired by Huttonian's post about the Newcastle Promenade the Hutton Think Tank (Ideas, Media and Vision Section) are working on the script for a new Dr Who series about a disabled Doctor and his single mother assistant time travelling in a Space Loo, suitably equiped for the purpose.
huttonian  ¶ 11:18 AM (0) comments

 
Tout Newcastle is talking about their new post modern Promenade gracing the Naples of County Down. Judge for your selves in the next few images. Click on pictures for spectacular results.
huttonian  ¶ 10:22 PM (0) comments

 
Stylish. Yes. Comfortable?
huttonian  ¶ 10:19 PM (0) comments

 
Looking South. I am not sure if the round receptacles are for rubbish. Whatever their intended purpose the outcome is all too inevitable
huttonian  ¶ 10:17 PM (0) comments

 
Post Sunset the Promenade obelisk lighting glows eerily.
huttonian  ¶ 10:14 PM (0) comments

 
They are not as uncomfortable as they look
huttonian  ¶ 10:12 PM (0) comments

 
Even the 20p in the slot for 15 seconds of blurred granny in her bikini viewing are in the post-modern idiom
huttonian  ¶ 10:10 PM (0) comments

 
The neo-post modern dog urinals for left or right legs with really lanky ones able to get their legs over completely. The more prosiac inist that these are bicycle racks.
huttonian  ¶ 10:08 PM (0) comments

 
The Famous 'No Dumping' Loo as used by Dr Who in his new series. Did he obey the regulation clearly stated on the left?
huttonian  ¶ 10:05 PM (0) comments

  Its a wee bit late to mention this now but Huttonian strongly advises against Golf on the NO 2 Course at the Royal County Down (PBUI) on Good Friday at about 10 am. Actually I was out very early and beat Snake Killer, Trolley Follower and Beautiful Dreamer to the first tee. Indeed no sign of them at any point so I assume that they were more aware than I was of the perils of Good Friday Golf (at 10am) I was finishing my usual short round-13 holes (yes I played well thanks for asking and who wouldn't on a beautiful Spring day with a lightish breeze) Anyhow as I was playing the last two holes I became aware that my earlier solitude was now evaporating as the fairways became alive with the sound of hackers. The Invasion of the Body snatchers had nothing on this. The predominant species seemed to be Pater Familiasses with young. I am dekighted that the coming generation, 12 and under are taking to the Royal and Ancient game in such large numbers but why on Good Friday at 10 am? I was contemplating a simple second shot to the 18th having hit my drive to position one-a short wedge to go. I was actually at the top of my back swing when I was aware of impending doom.A ball out of nowhere entered my peripheral vision causing me to duck, whistled past my head and disappeared into heavy rough to my rear left. It was followed by Pater Familias Number One with four breathless little boys in tow. He glared at me and said 'Did you see my ball? ' I replied that I had seen it on its way past and had felt its wind' 'Yes, Yes' impatiently, 'Where did it finish' Hint of apology? No. 'Sorry' I said I was too busy following the flight of my own ball' (Memo to Pro: ducking your head during a pitch shot can have miraculous results-I must do it more often-I got my three!) Paterfamilias stormed off in the general direction of his badly miscued ball shouting to his young charges '****ing Comedian' I have been called worse.

I was just holing out when P F number two came off the first tee with 6 little girls. Four carried little bags of clubs and two buckets and spades-these heading for some of the bunkers-sand traps for which this course is renowned. The two PFs then fell into a furious argument as PF Two wanted to go past PF One-reasonably enough as the latter was still trying to locate his errant ball. In the meanwhile a huge queue of wantabee hackers were building up on the first tee reluctant to hit whilst all reachable parts of the course were swarming with Little People.

I left them to it. It was 10.10. I suspect there will be much blood on the greens and in the sand before Good Friday ends on the Annesley Course. The only winner will be Stalker and his Alsatian who I saw setting out in eager anticipation of a very profitable day.  ¶ 10:42 AM (0) comments

  Donard from Commedagh Last day of winter in the Mournes? I am endebted to the junior son-in-law for this view of the summit of Slieve Donard taken last Monday. It was just outside the hut on the top that the body of a young soldier was found apparently killed by lightning.
  ¶ 6:44 PM (0) comments

  In The Borders we have the Berwickshire every Thursday and in Newcastle, Norn Iron where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea we have a choice every Wednesday of the very local Mourne Observer and the adjacent Down Recorder. If the local press reflects the society we live in then give me the Borders every time. So active is the political scene in Berwickshire in early April that our MSP can devote his whole weekly column to the launch of a Borders Bird Book-orgastic stuff for the Twitchers no doubt but not some thing that is going to excite the masses and roll out the barricades on the banks of the Tweed. By contrast the press here is highly politicised and with the absence of a functioning Northern Ireland Assembly local politicians strut their stuff attracting as many column inches as they can seeking media attention from theworthy: disabled access to Newcastle Harbour to the sectarian: A march through tourist infested Newcastle on Easter Sunday to commemorate the 90th Anniversary of the Easter Rising. Not quite going back to Cromwell but recent enough to inflame a passion or two. The local Sinn Fein councilor is a dab hand at this publicity game and it is a rare edition of the Mourne Observer which does not have at least a couple of photographs of him and a dozen more references placed by his hard working publicists.

The Berwickshire letter columns this week got worked up about damage to a war memorial and the sad closing of a village shop in a Berwickshire village- almost the last of a dying institution but the columns of the MO and the DR are filled with hate mail as rival politicians rip points off each other in most intemperate language. The rest of the paper apart from cataloguing crimes, many of them still indicative of still deeply divided society where 11 year boys can still attack other youngsters not over the great issues of the moment-Manchester United versus Arsenal-but because the 'others' are Protestants and they are Catholics, or the vicer the verser (Bit like that other big issue of the moment Rangers and Celtic then? Blog-ed. Oh Shut up-Huttonian)-tend to fill up scores of pages in ensuring an equal coverage of Catholic and Protestant weddings-Nationalist and Loyalist sports : Gaelic Football versus Rugby Union-Shinty against Hockey- and even the obituaries are sectarianly balanced. Two many dead Prods and a few are held over a week or two. One of the recent obits provided a nice surprise -a Catholic who loved cricket-only in Norn Iron would one notice that as an oddity.

So we await with interest the Easter Rising Memorial March on Sunday. Nationalists are asked to carry Easter Lilies to commemorate the Irish dead. By contrast in Dublin (where the rising took place) all the dead are to be honoured. ( Like the Flodden event later this year) It seems that Republicans in the south have 'drawn a line and are moving on' But up here Sinn Fein and their Orange counterparts still seem stuck in the past: 1916 and 1689 respectively.  ¶ 2:38 PM (0) comments

 
The Loneliness of the Long Distance Golfer. Play on and risk a soaking? Believe the Rainbow and plod on? Believe Mr Fish and turn back. Choices, choices.
huttonian  ¶ 6:19 PM (0) comments

  With the senior grandchild and her minders back to Lunnon, Huttonian is free to resume his normal lavish golf style on the Royal County Down (PBUI) No 1 course or its junior partner the Annesley Course (MPBUI) If playing a game with my regular partner it is to the Championship, No 1, links we go-members only until 1000 am so no one else on the course and if on my own I make do with what used to be called the Hen Run-now I suppose with Aviator Flu it might have to be renamed the Dead Hen Run, but early days. Despite the £28 per hack- a -round people are beginning to creep back on and I noticed this morning that once again there were three regular solitary users all ahead of meseparatedd by a hole in each case-and I was off at 8-20 am. The first is Trolley Follower. He is fast and with a remote control device tracks his clubs around at a fair lick. Once they seemed to get away-perhaps out of range of the rcd and ended up in the lake on the 17th of the No 1 course. But this morning his progress was measured, controlled and swift. A pleasure to follow.

Second out is usually Snake Killer. Or so it appears that this is what he is up to - from a safe distance. From his actions it would appear the entire rough is swarming with reptiles. His club work is savage and abrupt and some one should tell him that the Blessed Saint Patrick expelled all serpents from the Island of Ireland. I don't know how many balls ( presumably as snake substitutes) he cuts in two but I have found one or two rolling wounded which are ignored by Stalker and his ball finding Alsatian so dire are their condition. But he is also fast on his feet and so also no problem to be behind

Dreamer, No Three in the Pantheon of lone players, is not a good man to be behind. He dawdles along, whistling gently and tentatively and gently nudging his ball in the general direction of the hole. When he becomes aware of my presence through my tactful hacking coughing he tends to panic-pick up his ball and move on to the next tee glancing apologetically in my direction. Then the dream takes over once again and the whole throat wrenching pantomime has to begin all over again. I managed to get past him this morning as he lost his only ball-at least the only ball he allows himself to use. His clubs, I noticed as I roared past in response to his please overtake signal, would have left no change from a grand, his trolley was one of those fully automated £1500 plus, cocktail bar with integrated lap top and Blackberry on wheels, but I suppose you have to make economies somewhere.

I think I'll start 20 minutes later tomorrow.  ¶ 12:08 PM (0) comments

 
Not a day to be on the hills with the wind strong and heavy showers programmed by the Blether Centre. The Image is taken from the highest point of Castlewellan Forest Park
huttonian  ¶ 5:00 PM (0) comments

 
Violent rain and hail showers every forty minutes or so. Then dazzling sun. April weather at last.
huttonian  ¶ 4:56 PM (0) comments

 
Spring has come to the Mournes as seen from Castlewellan Forest Park. The rain has washed away the snow
huttonian  ¶ 4:54 PM (0) comments

  A sad reminder of the danger of walking in the beautiful Mournes was brought home to people by the death of a man on Slieve Donard last Saturday. A lightning strike in a chilly December is a rare enough event but the odds against a hit on an individual in such a large isolated area must be considerable. We were all aware of intense activity at the Police Station a few doors away with a helicopter landing in the grounds but had no idea what was going on until having rumours confirmed by this story in the Belfast Newsletter.

Lightning theory in mountain fatality


A man whose body was found in the Mournes on Saturday may have been struck by lightning.
A post-mortem examination revealed that there were no suspicious circumstances surrounding the man's death, a police spokesman said yesterday.He said a possible cause of death was that the man, believed to be in his 30s, had been struck by lightning.A group of walkers discovered the body, which was partially covered with snow, at the entrance to a stone shelter at the top of Slieve Donard.A police search and rescue team and a police doctor were airlifted to the scene in a Dublin-based coastguard helicopter after the alarm was raised at 2pm on Saturday.Around 850 metres high, Slieve Donard is the highest mountain in Northern Ireland.Ed Kilgore of the Mourne Mountain Rescue Team said the man was well-equipped and had plenty of food with him.He said conditions had been fairly cold in the area and there had been snow on higher ground in the early hours of Saturday."There is lightning in the mountains at times and storms and the danger being, because you are that bit higher up, the chances of strikes are possibly a little more risky," he said.
  ¶ 7:44 AM (1) comments

 
A bloggee writes: ' Its all very well these pictures of exotic/erotic butterflies but why not an image of some meaningful copulation?' As it happens Huttonian does have a picture of butterflies having it off but whether it is meaningful is really a matter for the insects themselves. Certainly it seems to add a new dimension to getting your end away. No gazing into your partners eyes and even the lady driver has to be a good reverser if both docking capsules are to be accurately engaged.
huttonian  ¶ 7:09 PM (0) comments

 
Zoe and a minder at the Seaforde Butterfly House. 70F inside and snowing out
huttonian  ¶ 1:49 PM (0) comments

 
A bloggee has said no more fish please. So just for a change we took Zoe to see butterflies instead at the Butterfly House in Seaforde
huttonian  ¶ 1:20 PM (0) comments

 
He/she was slightly damaged but still very spectacular
huttonian  ¶ 1:18 PM (0) comments

 
Another cute one. Still don't know any names but they are all tropical
huttonian  ¶ 1:16 PM (0) comments

 
Not a fishy picture but taken on the Ferry returning from Exploris
huttonian  ¶ 2:42 PM (0) comments

 
And this one of sea worms. Not in the touch tank thank goodness
huttonian  ¶ 2:40 PM (0) comments

 
I can't claim my junior son-in laws expertise with the digital -he has a very high tech version-andI am endebted to him for the fishy images from Exploris
huttonian  ¶ 2:37 PM (0) comments

 
As a Borders Ambassador, say it I shouldn't but this part of Norn Iron needs no selling to Jo Public. Better if we had a breed of Repellers to keep some of the trippers away. Shimna River Tollymore Park
huttonian  ¶ 2:08 PM (0) comments

 
This is Zoe in Tollymore Forest Park. Nearly mid-April. 2C. But bearable out of the wind
huttonian  ¶ 2:04 PM (0) comments

 
The official photograph on the cottage bench. The one of two years ago is on a previous post
huttonian  ¶ 2:02 PM (0) comments

 
You get to Portaferry by car ferry from Strangford across the mouth of the lough-today high winds and strong currents
huttonian  ¶ 3:22 PM (0) comments

 
Zoe has the same jaundiced view of the BBC Blether Centre as the rest of us. Spring? Late winter more likely
huttonian  ¶ 3:17 PM (0) comments

 
Zoe was as interested in the drawing facilities as she was with the fish. Here she is composing and trying to attract the attention of the little boy opposite her
huttonian  ¶ 3:14 PM (0) comments

 
Exploris has four rescued seals in their tank. All this years crop have been given names from Indian Cuisine-don'task me why. This little one is called Poppadum.
huttonian  ¶ 3:11 PM (0) comments

 
If you look carefully you can see a well camouflaged skate on the tank bed at Exploris which specialises in exhibiting local-Strangford Loch-fish. None of that foreign exotic rubbish
huttonian  ¶ 3:08 PM (0) comments

 
Having taken Mr P to 'Exploris' in Portaferry we had to take the senior grandchild. This is a Ray in the 'touch tank'-the fish seemed to enjoy the attention during a touching session
huttonian  ¶ 3:05 PM (0) comments

 
Zoe singing for her supper in Portaferry-well a late breakfast actually at a greasy spoon, Norn Iron variety. They even sent out for the Tomato Sauce especially.
huttonian  ¶ 3:02 PM (0) comments

  Someone once asked Huttonian why he lived in such a small uninteresting village like Hutton. The enquirer was from Swinton and was (boringly) proud of it. This writer to the letter columns of yesterday's Berwickshire gives one of reasons why I am glad to live in Hutton. Not Swinton.



SIR, - Swinton dog owners are responsible: walk to better health we are told - impossible in Swinton. Step off Duns Road to allow traffic past and your shoes are covered in muck - do not even try to walk the bridle paths - they are health hazards. We have flower barrels and ‘Swinton’ marker and alongside a heap of dog dirt. That says it all.P.S. Apologies to those who do clean up. (Name and address withheld to spare the writer excessive fan mail. Blogg-ed)

  ¶ 4:18 PM (0) comments

  His voice was grave, his smart suit shining with concern. 'A really nasty day in norn Iron; windy, cold, wet and the weekend will be worse' So of course it is a glorious day. And no doubt the mid day forecast will reflect this when the Blether Centre's 'man on the spot' gets out of bed, opens his window, has a look and phones his fellow conspirators across the water. The old system of forecasting, with its pieces of seaweed and the entrails of a duck was much more accurate. Sadly the entrails of ducks, especially those in Fife are being consulted for a different purpose and Huttonian is doing his best by keeping a sharp eye open for snuffling swans. Berwick upon Tweed is not the place to be at the moment as it has the second largest colony of swans in the entire UK so I hope the Aviator flu experts in the Hutton Think Tank (Sniffles and snuffles and extra snot section) are landing a hand. Their entrailascope is the most modern in Europe and will be in full working mode when they have acquired the three AAA batteries required and not supplied with the original box.

Full report later. If we are spared, of course.  ¶ 9:45 AM (0) comments

 
The blog will tend to be dominated the next few days by the senior grand daughter who has just arrived en famille in the Province. So as a compensating measure here is Mmslle Katy B in her latest acquisition direct from Paris. From le Salon de Magasin de Charite a la mode de Petite Bebe where Tout Paris buys ex as-seen-in- Hullo outfits for the Small People. Chic on stilts as they say  ¶ 9:31 PM (0) comments

  The new feature of Newcastle, Co Down, Norn Iron, is the spanking new promenade mid town which has been two years in the making. According to the wee girl in our local shop it is post modern or modrern as folks round here often have it). I have never been quite sure what that means as modern is surely modern, ie cutting edge new,-post modern might mean that things are going down hill and we are in danger of regressing retro-wards. Anyhow she has a boy friend who worked on the site and used to tell her, waxing lyrical, how it was going, block by block, which apparently invited the sharp retort ' I don't want to know what it is made of I just want to walk on it'. But she likes it and it is striking with its steel tubular seats, flat topped lighting, charming flights of broad shallow steps sweeping into the sea, large wooden seats much too wide to sit comfortably on but would suit a passing dosser for a night or two. And at one end there is the very latest in public loos-his, hers and the disabled person. Shiny aliminum, with those kind of softly opening (and closing, one hopes) space capsule like doors from which you might expect Dr Who to emerge, duty done and zipped up with his bidee in (for the series)exiting from the distaff side similarly non-dishabillee.

Our transatlantic visitors might, if caught short, after over indulging on Guiness and Dundrum Bay oysters, be a bit dismayed by the apparent restrictions on the use to which these facilities can be put. A huge sign outside the neo-post modern toilets warns starkly:

NO DUMPING.  ¶ 1:55 PM (0) comments

 
Read all about it (click on image and put on glasses)
huttonian  ¶ 12:07 PM (0) comments

 
Not far from the mine is this huge anchor from the SS Great Britain-a very early steam ship which once ran aground in Dundrum Bay before finishing off in the Falklands-what a storm that must have been.
huttonian  ¶ 12:06 PM (0) comments

 
Across the road from Huttonian's family cottage is a little park. Used to be called Goats Green. The goats have gone and the 'tourist attractions' have arrived. Like this mine that used to be in the Central Promenade which has now been bijoued up with flowers and shrubs replacing mines. This weapon used to have a slot for attracting contributions to the Seafarers Mission or Life Boats or something nautical. Now no more. Its just a bog standard mine well after its blow by date.
huttonian  ¶ 12:03 PM (0) comments

 
We live in the quiet part of Newcastle-very much in the shadow of what used to be the Royal Ulster Constabulary barracks-now with the gentle 'Police Service of Northern Ireland the police station has had a makeover, old towering walls and barbed wire gone and an outer granite wall with a more civilian look. Granite is so appropriate for a building at the foot of the Mountains of Mourne. But in this case the granite came from a more distant quarry.

In China. (Cheaper apparently)


huttonian  ¶ 11:58 AM (0) comments

  An amazing morning. Sun, no cloud, no wind. A day made for golf at the Royal County Down (PBUI) From previous experience of such unusual climatic conditions I knew that an early start would be necessary to beat the masses on their warm up to Easter hols. Out of bed at sparrow fart, no toast, token shower, grab clubs and off through the early commuters on their way to start a days grind in Belfast. On the first tee at 8am and to my astonishment I was the first car into the car park. But by the time I had played 4 holes I started to worry. Not a soul on the course, neither Catholic, Protestant nor Christian. Why? Mid week. OK but I have mid weeked before amongst crowds of would be -but- nothing -like- yet- golfers of all sexes and persausions (as they say here) Horrors perhaps the course was closed? There was a frost last night and with Walker Cups coming up the Green Keepers can be a bit over protective. I may have missed the notice on the first tee. I carried on waiting for the scream of tyres and the tap on the shoulder, the hand on the scruff and the ungentle suggestion that I got the (verb or noun) out of here. But the Green Keepers smiled in my general direction and no ugly rush from the bullet proof green machines to urge me to begone before I destroyed the course entirely.

Then across the fairway I saw a lone figure-a golfer, a single woman golfer. I was alright and not in breach of the rules that must be obeyed. Golf was ok. In my relief I nearly rushed across to embrace her but as I got closer I realised that might have been a mistake for a number of reasons, mostly sexist. So I went on my way rejoicing, as no doubt did she.

In the club house I asked the Steward what was going on; a lovely day and no golfers? Its money he said. The green fees on the number two course (where I was playing) have just gone up to £28. Its a short course and the norn ironers calculating the cost per yard are not putting their hands into their pockets-or at least they are and keeping them there.

Nice lie in tomorrow.  ¶ 11:10 AM (0) comments

 
Well bless the boys from the BBC. A perfect day for negotiating the wilder borders en route to Stranraer through snow covered mountains. Blue sky, calm seas and the Mournes looking as magnificent as I can remember them. They actually got a mention by the Blether Centre as being likely to be covered in snow. Nice thought Mr Deakin but snow there isn't. The flat calm allowed the HSS Ferry to be 15 minutes early and the only blemish was that out usual peaceful retreat in 'Club Class' was polluted by one of those boorish young men with a loud voice and an irritating mobile ring who seemed to believe that the lads in the office needed to be in constant touch and given a running commentary on the latest bright ideas which always 'came to' him when he was at sea. Fortunately for them and for us this was only 100 minutes.

So here we are-and the image shows where Huttonian will be tomorrow assuming that the good forecast is accurate. For once.  ¶ 7:43 PM (0) comments

  A friend of a Bloggee (but who does not indulge herself) told Huttonian that a local lady is kept informed about what goes on around here by relations in the US of A and the Antipodes who are regular Blog watchers and then ring her up with the local news having skimmed through 'Musings'. So this blog does provide quite a useful (If somewhat convoluted) information service. I do however urge the lady in question to get on line herself and find out about all the doings at Hutton Mill at first hand without having to wait for the transatlantic phone to ring.

Anyhow as from sparrow crap tomorrow Huttonian will himself need to rely on others for gen about the Borders-Not a topic of much interest in Norn Iron so it will be dependence on the on-line Berwickshire each Thursday and the occasional wind assisted Deep Throat. The Hutton Think Tank will not be able to help since their phone was cut off for non payment of bills and their Computer crashed following an infection by the 'No One Loves Me' Virus.
Their senior systems manager misunderstood the effectiveness of the flu jab so freely offered by Chirnside MedicalPractice last Autumn. What is good for the Gander:homo sapiens is not necessarily effective for the Goose: a PC running on Windows 72. Wrong kind of virus as GNER might say.  ¶ 7:56 PM (0) comments

  Zoe in Norn Iron The elder granddaughter will be back to Norn Iron after 2 years. We will, inevitably photograph her on the bench which has featured in family images of five generations.
  ¶ 11:31 AM (0) comments

  Drive 15th Royal County Down (PBUI) No this is not to day but hopefully very soon. We are off to Norn Iron tomorrow via Stena HSS and I am afraid bloggees that there will rather more images like this one. Also, bad news for the CB bloggee, the senior grand daughter will be joining us for a long week end and she wil not be spared, photography wise.
  ¶ 11:19 AM (0) comments

 

Another decision time for the new Hutton Hall. What colour of cladding for the walls? The Hall committee will make a decision at their next meeting based on a choice from the three samples in place on the East wall . Huttonian could live with any one of them with a slight preference for the darkest one. The middle panel is a bit aneamic but has the advantage of being easily paintable-and might make the best match with the controversial roof (controversial = two complaints to my knowledge)-click on image to drink in the beauty.

What you can be certain of is that what ever the committee people come up with someone is sure not to be happy but I hope will refrain from anonymous notices in the bus shelter  ¶ 6:29 PM (1) comments

 


The Bovver Boys at the BBC Blether Centre are once again talking about snow-to coincide with our trip to Norn Iron. So we seem to have had the latest and shortest Spring on record. Not too pleasing for the wife as he spent all All Fools Day planting the vegetables. The poor Daffs have been caught in to minds: to flower or to return to hibernation for a bit-like until July. The ones in the backgarden have decided to take the plunge but those in the front are putting off the evil hour still nodding away in the North West wind. Those that have come up are looking a bit subdued and not enjoying the outing, nodding and drooping in the Breeze as HW nearly put it.. I hope that one of the French bloggees can keep us informed on the Printemps en retard there.
After the barricades have been removed and the flames doused, of course  ¶ 9:47 AM (0) comments

 



With all the excursions in foreign parts our own dear village hall has been rather neglected by the Blog Monitoring Sub-Committee but not by the builders. Progress is not spectacular as the focus of activity has moved indoors and it is hard to see what is going on in day to day terms but we are still promised a completion in June. But this is not the only building activity in the area-down the lane to Hutton Mill a spanking new house has been shooting up at a fair rate of knots. It started well after the Village Hall and has seemed to have erected itself uncanningly spontaneously as I have yet to see a workman on site although evidently there was an electrician around as his van was parked outside. No sign of him in the house however and he may well have been the man I saw fishing. The final image indicates one aspect of this new development; fishing together with a pheasantery and a Guinea Fowlery-quite a little industrial complex. Good for the investors but I do slightly worry about possible future effects on the Whiteadder which is classified as a Site of Special Scientific Interest. Once 'a recognised building block' is in position it is only too easy to get planning permission for other buildings alongside or around it.

Unless of course the river sweeps them all away-as happened in 1948. The river was high yesterday (click on image) and it would only take two medium icebergs to melt in the Whiteadder Reservoir an Bob's your Great Uncle.

  ¶ 8:41 AM (0) comments

  As a further PS to Hutton and Paxton ongoing recycling saga it is worth reporting a small article from the latest Berwickshire News


Bad start to kerbside collections
KERBSIDE collections in Berwickshire got off to a less than perfect start when postcards telling residents when the collections would take place weren't sent out in time.
The postcards explained when individual collection days would be for general refuse, the lilac and clear recycling bags and the garden waste. They should have been sent out last Monday but didn't actually start being sent out until Thursday, March 23, consequently some residents did not receive the information before the new service went live on Monday, March 27, resulting in rubbish being put out on days when there was no collection or else it was not put out and the collection day was missed.
"Unfortunately we were not informed about the situation in time to avoid the inevitable confusion. We immediately put a contingency plan into operation to try to minimise the impact," said Julie Rankine, Scottish Borders Council's waste strategy implementation manager.
"The council would like to apologise to all Berwickshire residents for the delay in the issue of information about the start date of the new kerbside recycling service. Unfortunately the situation was beyond our control," she added.
"We hope that next week householders will put out their waste and their material for recycling on the new collection days and that we will be able to offer this new service in the way it was intended.
"If for any reason you have not received your postcard advising you of the days of your collections, please contact the Recycling Helpline on 01835 825128 and we will be able to advise you over the phone of your collections days."
30 March 2006

The postcards got through (mostly) to Hutton and only a few villagers dragged their bins out on Wednesday, which was our regular collection day since the year . only to have them unattended with Friday being our nominated day from now on-until a new year .

WE are all intrigued by the reference to the contingency plan. What happened when it was put into 'effect'? What was it? It may have been a (secret) call to support the one day strike last Tuesday-so even if you put your bin out as per post card or didn't because the post card had not arrived the difference would have been the same. And you would then blame the striking employees and not the High Heid Yins safely behind the barricades in Borders HQ within the Green Line of Newtown St Boswells (Twinned with Oldtown Baghdad) Any other contingency plans to the Hutton Think Tank (Emergency, Crisis and Conflict section) via the usual dead letter box please.

  ¶ 1:03 AM (0) comments