Tennants Lager Girl

I was working in LouLesBelles today and a lady came in for a browse.    We got talking after she hear heard my accent.   She told me she used to work for Scottish Television and had appeared as one of the 'Tennants Lager Girls' in the late 1960's early 1970s.      This was a long running series of different model's pictures on cans of lager.     The ladies name was Susan.    Tennants Lager girls on cans

It brought flashbacks of my upbringing in Scotland when it seemed quite normal for parents, uncles and aunties to gather and get unco' fu'.    I remember the Tennant's tins lined up (empties!) with all the different girl pictures and my Dad and Uncles Jack, Joe, George, Ecky and David liking to look at them.   I think they were considered quite racy in their day (the tins not the Uncles!).   The word sexist has not even been thought about at least in our part of Scotland.  

When 'the crowd' gathered we children (me, my two brothers and my sister) and various cousins were usually left at a loose end to amuse ourselves.    I have many, many memories some hilarious and others horrendous of what nowadays would probably be considered abuse. Nothing really bad, but just being 'looked after' by daft drunk (kindly in their way) adults - all smoking like 'lums' and either singing or snoring sometimes quarrelling over nothing.     It was particularly awful when we were on holiday in the caravan and there was no escape.    I used to dread the clink of the whisky bottle and still feel the same anxiety today.

On the other hand - I can proudly say I never had a school dinner in my life.   I was driven to school and back every day in a lovely Wolseley, or Jaguar or Rover car.   My mother cooked wholesome food and we lived in a 'posh' new bungalow, had holidays and many happy days out.    My Dad was born in 1910 and my mother in 1921.    He lived to 79 and she to 53.    When Mum died suddenly in 1974 I was a rebellious surly 17 year old caught up in the tail end of the swinging 60's and the start of the 1970's 'awakening'. against a back drop of power strikes, miners strikes, unions strife surrounded by adults who liked nothing more than to recall war time memories, 'hae a wee nip' (and a Tennant's Lager) and tut tut at the state of the world and the length of our skirts.    I lived in my false eyelashes!   I was insanely jealous of my 'big' sister and let her know it by behaving badly.    

I am sure the Tennant's tin pictures were a huge influence on me - something I thought I was supposed to aspire to.    I don't recall anyone telling me there was a different path - or maybe i didn't listen.

Gosh Susan of Tennant's Lager - a lot of powerful memories have been unleashed today.

Happy Birthday to my big sister

Dear sister Mary you are fair pretty

So I thought I’d write you this wee ditty,

You have a special birthday soon,

With all your boys in Tbilisi Toon

You are Mary Poppins to everyone

Riding your bike and never done

Now this wee gift is not a stick

But to help you walk and get there quick!

For going up hills it will be a boon

Or prodding John if he sits doon

I hope you like it and walk many a mile

With this walking pole – do it in style!

Happy Birthday Mary – here’s a virtual hug

Have a wonderful Christmas – nice and snug

We will go walking in the New Year,

With plenty of laughs and a glass of beer!

Ginger has arrived

This evening we went to our neighbours farm (Jean-François et Christine) who have kindly donated another chicken to keep Mrs Mac company.     It is amazing as she looks just like the character Ginger in Chicken Run, so no problem thinking of a name for her!     
http://dreamworks.wikia.com/wiki/Ginger?file=Ginger.jpg


No pictures of Ginger yet as she was quite traumatised with the journey and seeing her new home.    The two of them are now ensconced for the night and we just hope they get on ok.     Ginger is a lot younger and hopefully she will enjoy hearing all Mrs Mac's adventures this summer....

Moon shot on Ginger's first night....

Fright night!!

Last night I was walking down through the garden in the pitch dark to put Mrs Mac to bed with her hot water bottle and two large plastic bottles filled with hot water - to keep the chill off.    

As usual I 'chatted' to her in a loud sing, song voice as I approached.   It was very, very dark and my torch batteries were fading.....    I thought I heard a rustle in the hedge and fleetingly thought maybe a fox or big feral cat was prowling.   I talked louder

"Hello Mrs Mac" I boomed into the dark, feeling around for the catch to the hen house.   "coochy, coochy coo.   So how are you wee hen?" I shouted  

"are you cold?   It's a frosty one tonight" I told her

"look here's your bottle there's a good girl" I clucked

I caught a flash of her tiny wee eyes and carried on making loud cluck, cluck, clucking noises (this to comfort her) as I carefully laid the hot bottles next to her nesting box and then locked the hutch for the night.    I shouted 

"night, night then Mrs Mac there's a good wee girl - see you tomorrow"

 ... and then I heard a car engine and loud hooves like a stampede - which it was!    It was the French farmer herding cows in the dark up our lane to the back field.    By the light of his car headlights I could see two farm hands who must have been standing in the bushes waiting on the cows - and listening to me!!     

I was mortified and fled to the house!!

drawing and napping

I have been going to a lovely beginner's drawing class for a few weeks and find it very relaxing. We are learning about techniques and different pencils/papers.   

I love the power of the pencil and the look of it on paper - kind of like black and white photos, they always seem more detailed?         After sketching for an hour, I feel like I have had a little nap - refreshed and chilled.

This is a little sketch of cart of straw we had to copy for our homework..... 

Des hommes et des dieux (of gods and men)

We watched an amazing film that will stay with us for a long time.     It tells the story of nine French trappist monks of The Monastery Notre-Dame de l'Atlas of Tibhirine in Algeria during the Civil War in 1996.

They led a simple life living in harmony with the Muslim population serving the poor community that was raised around the monastery. They were threatened by terrorists but decided to stay in Algeria and not return to France with devastating consequences.

The Tragic Romance of Africa

It has been a really thoughtful week world wide as Mr Nelson Mandela passed away, which has highlighted the plight of Africa.   

I just happened to read a really good book written by my step daughter-in-law's grandfather Dennis Hubbard:

The-Tragic-Romance-Africa-Adventure

It is a tender true story revealing the memoirs of a young man setting out from his daredevil ‘Dennis the Menace’ upbringing in post war Sheffield to work for a railway company in the little mining town of Broken Hill in Northern Rhodesia in the early 1950s.    The book is a real page turner with laugh out loud moments as the story beautifully unfolds.   The descriptions of Africa in the 1950s are breath taking and I felt as though I was there.    The narrative brings to life an amazing country and the wonder of seeing wild, wild animals – up very close!    

The tragedy unfolds against the shocking backdrop of Apartheid through the eyes of a plucky young adventurer, unbelievably naïve in the world of complex adult relationships.   The author develops influential and powerful allies but is tragically blind to an illicit love tryst involving his closest friends, until it is too late, with horrid consequences. 

It was a privilege to read this honest and heart felt coming of age account in contrast to today’s usual unbelievable gory best sellers.

If you have received a stack of book vouchers this Christmas – this is an absorbing insight to another life, another place, another time.