auld reikie

i've made these jam-packed to do lists for my weekend of things i will accomplish before my sister arrives tomorrow, but i just ended up taking a two-hour nap instead of crossing things off. probably in a few minutes from now i will become very anxious over this, but it was probably quite necessary to cave in and restore. i must head off to work in an hour, but first i will tell you about my weekend of highly scottish content.

on friday evening andrew and i went to an event celebrating the traditional music of edinburgh. it was in very old, rooted-sounding folk-style, the words of the perpetually singing people (so goes the democracy of folk music). he is very much more into this kind of music than i am, but in response to his question afterwards of how i liked it i said "at times very fun and the rest of the time interesting." that style of music can be a little too samey, fiddly and soaring in the same predictable melodic ups and downs; in these moments i found myself delighted and amused by the musicians as characters, who all had these fantastic quirks and skills, and who seemed truly fulfilled and at home on a stage producing these sounds. one musician played some kind of lute instrument, a more sophistocated recorder, and he astounded me - it looked like his fingers never really touched the holes and his mouch wasn't connected to the mouthpiece, a very wobbly look of playing - and yet he was flawless. it is absurdly easy to miss a note or make a squeak on those little instruments, so i was very impressed. occasionally the music would become really infectious and rhythmic - there was one song where the folk sound was fused with a heavy shuffle beat - and these were the times of fun. i am a sucker for a beat, i suppose. they also incorporated a lot of old scottish poetry into the music, most notably robert fergusson's 'auld reikie,' which is a nickname for edinburgh referring to its smelliness (someday ask me about how the plumbing used to work here, it's highly classy). this was read by a dynamic scots enthusiast named billy kay, and his old-time scotspeak accent was so thick that i could barely understand him. if i was a better appreciator of language, i would be very struck by the existence of scotspeak and its evolution.

after what might be my last shift at the bistro with several of my coworkers saturday morning, the afternoon was as aforementioned: a lunch with julia and walks around the city filled with the sun and wistfulness and renewed appreciation. in the evening time i went with a big group of friends to a ceilidh, which is a very traditional scottish dance event that i shamefully hadn't managed to get myself to yet, even though they are happening constantly in the city. i had a misconception that it was referring to a particular orchestrated scottish dance that everyone did together for a few hours, or maybe a consistent group of them. but really it just means any kind of organized dance for large groups of people - and so we waltzed and virginia reeled and canadian barn danced the night away. unexpectedly it was a hippie ceilidh - put on by a group of people obsessed with vegan and organic food production, meaning that all the wine and cider and whatnot was organic, and that they were all dressed in facepaint and costume and dancing their children around. it was silly and fun - all ideas of dancing with class or distinction were thrown out the window and instead everyone jumbled and fell into one another, trying to keep up and all smiling as they sort of concentrated and sort of didn't care too much. andrew tells me it was a very tame ceilidh, that usually people just pack so much energy into the dances that it becomes manic and wild and exhausting; as he is a ball of energy there were a few moments where with hair and feet flying i was being literally whirled halfway across the room; i imagine every girl should have this experience once in awhile, just like she should wear a pretty dress occasionally. all in all it was a lovely evening and i won't feel shy about ceilidhs anymore, though i think i ultimately prefer being able to do my own thing.

this morning, in a traditional young-person follow up to an evenings of dancing and spirits (even if organic), i met with my group of friends again to get a humungous breakfast in a nice pub called montpelier's on their side of town. there is a special wherein you get three breakfasts for the price of two, and this amount of food fed five people completely adequately - an eight-egg omelette and a full scottish breakfast (which meant fried eggs, sausage, bacon, tomato, mushrooms, potato scones, hash browns, french toast, a mini-steak, toast, haggis and black pudding) and banana pancakes. it is absurd that scottish people eat this way regularly. i am literally spent for the rest of the day. but, of course this is their way, and so should be occasionally embraced in their home.

it has been a lovely weekend to relax me after my mess and stress of last week. this evening after work i am left to laundry, cleaning, emails and plansmaking for my trip to france in may, and then begins the d'adamo family tour of ireland and scotland, what an enterprise! wish me well and cheerio-