Newsletter Items
A MESSAGE FROM YOUR MINISTER
WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO SUMMER?
I don`t know about you, but I am patiently waiting for summer to begin before it`s too late. It is getting to the stage where I am resigned to the fact that every time I go out it`s layers that are required as a dress code. You literally could have four seasons in one day.
Summers were always a great time as a kid. Off we would go on our holidays to that well known holiday destination of New Pitsligo. The car journey seemed to take forever, but we were armed with our sweets, normally cream line toffees (I think, looking back, that they were designed just to keep us quiet) and a range of DC Thomson`s summer specials. It was an adventure.
A highlight of these holidays were the trips to the outdoor swimming at Tarlair. There was none of this heated water like at Stonehaven. It was truly the coldest water I have ever experienced, I mean ever. But this was where I learned to swim. It was also the time I found out that my sister`s patience with me had its limits. After trying hard to get me into the icy waters of the Moray Firth, which was disguised as a swimming pool, I felt a firm hand on my back as she firmly shoved me in. She was done with cajoling and with my excuses, it was literally sink or swim. So swim I did! After I got over the shock of the water, I swam, it was good – I could do it!
As an aside, these times at the water did not lead to a love of freezing water, but it did develop a love of the shore, sunsets and the soothing sound of the waves (the front cover has a picture of the sun setting over my favourite beach on the Isle of Harris).
I find it truly relaxing and inspiring, and I am reminded that we are part of something much bigger that we are aware of. We are like specks of sand in terms of the size of the universe and all that is in it.
I hope and pray that you have a place, near or far, that brings you peace and reminds you of the wonder of the world we live in.
Your friend and minister.
Alan
DEXY WITH HIS (MIS) ADVENTURES
DEXY`S (MIS) ADVENTURES – Chapter 2
Now, on the whole I`m a pretty quiet dog, really easy going and laid back. But, what my owners did not realise, they were getting a highly trained guard dog almost on the level of the SAS. I am there to serve and protect. So far this week I have alerted them to the dangers of the Amazon delivery man, the Asda delivery man, the post man (on several occasions), 2 pigeons, a hare and a dodgy looking carrier bag on the grass.
They do not always appreciate my interventions, but I have to keep them safe. So in an effort to keep the element of surprise, I will at times bark at nothing just to keep them on their toes. That is especially effective in the car when it is nice and quiet and they have almost forgotten I was there. That can really make them jump.
Now, let me tell you, although I am highly skilled there are times when I can also be caught off guard. For example, there was the time a neighbour put out some cardboard boxes for collection. My mum thought we should just walk past them!! Was she serious? I was not for budging so I had to be carried past. I have to admit that was a little humiliating, especially when there was no danger at all. There was also the mysterious sign that said “Santa Please Stop Here” - under no circumstances was I walking past that on a dark night. Evasive action was called for and we had to cross the road and back every night until it was gone. So even a highly trained guard dog like myself can get caught out.
The moral of this tail is.............not everything needs barked at. Sometimes you are better off crossing the road to keep out of harm`s way, rather then making a big noise that might frighten people away.
Dexy
MINISTER`S VISITING
Over the months of June and July I started visiting on behalf of the church, guided by Elspeth. From August onwards my working days for the church will mainly be Tuesdays and Wednesdays. When I am to visit I will call in advance to arrange a convenient time.
Thanks for your patience.
SUNDAY SERVICES
Our morning worship is to be conducted most weeks by myself.
Leading worship when I am off on 4th August and 15th September will be Rev Bob Wightman.
29th September – Pulpit exchange with Rev Gordon Campbell leading worship here and my leading of worship in Perth Congregational Church.
Alan
HOW THE WORLD CHANGES – OR DOES IT?
My dad was in the army throughout World War ll and, in 1942, while in Palestine he was given a paper-back book published by the Young Men’s Christian Association. In its forward J. T. Massey, Secretary of British Y.M.C.A.’s with Middle East Forces writes, “It is hoped that, despite the upsets and confusion of terrible war, this book may prove not only a guide to sightseeing but also an inspiration for further research. Perhaps it will lead men and women to contemplate eternal verities and take courage for the future when – ‘Nation with nation and land with land, Unarmed shall live as comrades free.’”
Now the year is 1977, I had a bucket list (still yet to complete) and, working in London, had just been accepted to do Voluntary Service Overseas. Mortgages and pensions, not yet a priority I gave up my job, took back the pension money, got a tax rebate and paid for my air ticket and a fancy camera. My destination was a kibbutz in Israel. My dad still referred to his time there as being in Palestine. At the airport, looking like a lost hippy I was approached by two other girls in similar garb, all of us heading for a kibbutz. Arriving in Jerusalem in the evening, armed with our documents and letter for our kibbutz we wandered the streets to find somewhere to stay. We eventually found a room in the old Arab quarter up an outside flight of stairs. Surrounded by the unfamiliar noises and smells of people living in close proximity which both frightened and excited us we indulged in a meal of foul beans, at a nearby eating house before sleeping. Despite the name they were very tasty. In the morning we parted at the bus station and I spent some time trying to find someone who spoke English and could direct me to the correct bus, I eventually met a soldier who, fortuitously, was heading for the same kibbutz, his home in fact. After a surprisingly smooth air-conditioned journey we arrived at Metzer in the north. Surrounded by lush green countryside and fields of apricot and banana trees I was greeted warmly and directed to a row of huts where the other volunteers lived. There, on the veranda, bunches of green bananas hung. The living quarters were basic with about 25 of us living in the dormitory huts. Looking up from the huts was a large low storey building which housed the restaurant, kitchens and recreation area for the kibbutz and all of its inhabitants who had their own homes but also used the communal restaurant. As volunteers we shared two bathrooms and relied on the restaurant for our food. Food, available all the time, was wonderful and, most surprisingly, all vegetarian. It was a turning point in my dietary habits, for a wee while anyway. Most importantly there was a swimming pool, much needed because of the heat, where I actually learned to swim properly in the time I was there having only achieved doggy paddle status at school. Life was good, working and travelling the country and learning how the lives of others can be so different from ours but yet that their needs are so much the same. Two of the volunteers stand out in my memory particularly. They were a brother and sister, themselves Jewish, who were political activists fleeing from persecution in Argentina. I think of how much has changed since my days spent on the kibbutz at Metzer but has the world learned anything from past national and international conflict? The words written in 1942 surely have the answer.
Marguerite Ruffle (to be continued)
MEH GRANNY
Meh granny never had the things that maist fowk hae the day
She never saw a T.V. Set or heard a tranny play
She never yaised a microwave and eye level grills an things
She used to yaise an auld black range an twa gas burning
rings
Meh granny never ate kebabs or Chinese kerry oots
She never drank a can o` coke or tasted kiwi fruits
She never smelt the curried scent o` spicy vindaloos
An` she never (though she stayed 3 up) had stairheid
barbecues
Meh granny never wore T shirts – no even in her teens -
She never wore a mini-skirt or frayed an` torn jeans
She never had her hair in spikes or dyed it green or blue
An she never had her airms tattooed or had a sniff o` glue
Mey granny never had a hoose wi` mod. cons like we hae
The kitchen was her living room, the loaby her hallway
Her carpets were but clootie rugs that she made piece by
piece
An` her vacuum was a besom heid that worked wi` elbow
grease
Alas meh granny`s crossed the vale ower tae the ither side
She`s sairly missed but nonetheless that`s whaur she`ll hae
tae bide
Hoo`ever – should she get tae hear o` a` the things we`ve
got
I`m shair she`ll shed her heavenly wings an` come back like
a shot.
(With thanks to D.C. Taylor)
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