A little trip

We took ourselves off for a little outing to Dunfermline on Thursday on the bus, over the bridge to Fife.  (Buses are free to the over-60s.) We'd heard that there was an exhibition of Joseph Noel Paton's paintings in the Carnegie Library, and having only vaguely heard of JNP, wanted to find out more. 

It turned out that he was very famous in his day and was the Queen's (Victoria's) Limner in Scotland. He painted lots of pictures of fairies, because that was very fashionable, but also portraits of his family and other people. 

This one is of his wife and youngest son and is called "Lullaby". It somewhat disregards the fact that the average mother, having got the baby to sleep, would immediately put him down and go and tidy up - or possibly collapse in a heap - rather than balance him precariously on her knee and play the piano to keep him asleep. However, artistic licence and all that. 

The paintings were in a modern extension to the library, which was very nice indeed, and which also houses a museum with various exhibits showing the history of Scotland and specifically of Dunfermline - which was the capital of Scotland between the 11th and 15th centuries. 

Queen Margaret founded a priory here in 1070. As tends to happen, the building got altered a lot over the years, a bit of it was taken over for a palace (now fairly ruined) and an extra church was built on the side two hundred years ago, but there's still quite a lot to see. The extension to the library has lots of glass, with extensive views over the gardens, 

and the Abbey church and precincts. 

You can see Robert the Bruce's name built into the church tower.

By the time we'd finished looking at the exhibition (and had lunch) the Abbey was closing, as was the Palace, so we just had a quick look and will come back another day.

Then we went for a short walk in the adjacent Pittencrieff Park. This was bought by Andrew Carnegie in 1902 and given to the people of Dunfermline. The story is that as a boy, he couldn't play there because the estate was privately owned, so he vowed that one day, he'd buy it. And, once he'd become one of the richest people in the world, he did. 

 

Grrr

Nothing much is happening here. Well, unless you'd like to know about the new(ish) car we bought recently, which is supposedly very clever and is automatic and is thus (in my opinion) much harder to drive than our previous, manual one. Anyway, we tried to go to church in it this morning and the car WOULDN'T OPEN - you remember what cars with keys were like? - yes, quite. Anyway, a chap from the AA (Automobile Association, not Alcoholics Anonymous) came after some hours, and got it open. He has a theory about the battery being drained because .... something like... it was attached to our wifi. Not by us, it wasn't. Things can be too clever, in my opinion. 

Deep breath. Yesterday we went for a walk down through another bit of the New Town,

to what is now one of the modern art galleries. We're not huge fans of (some) modern art but it has a good cafe. This building used to be an orphanage - it's a beautiful building but I imagine it was a somewhat forbidding sight for the poor little mites who got taken there from their presumably humbler homes. 

Here's the cafe. We warmed ourselves up there. 

And outside again, here, over the impressive curlicue on the wall, you can see allotments and then the other modern art gallery (also with good cafe). That gallery used to be a school. 

Here are the allotments. We haven't had snow but it's been very frosty all week. No one was working on the allotments. Wisely. 

Then we walked through the grounds of the second gallery,

down to the river and along the path towards home. 

When we got to the park, there were two swans and lots of ducks finding something good to eat on the river bed. I'm glad I'm not a duck. 

It's supposed to get much warmer this week. 
 

Cold walk

We did a recce for a town walk yesterday. We started at the Portrait Gallery

and plunged down through the New Town (can you see the sea and the hills on the other side?)

and further down - this is Scotland Street, which might be of interest to anyone who reads Alexander McCall Smith's writing about this street - 

and along cycle/walking paths

which used to be railway lines (it was a beautiful day, but cold)

till we got to the sea. Then we had coffee in a pretty little pub.

And after that we walked back a different way, saying hello to a watchful cat,

 

and ended up at the Botanics, where we had lunch. 

The walk wasn't quite five miles but we were glad to sit down. We've not been walking so much over the festive period and were clearly out of condition. Must do more!

Quiltquiltquilt

I feel a rainbow-ish quilt in the offing. Thanks to my lovely friend Thimbleanna, I have enough orange and some purple, but I think I need to buy a little more purple. Even with all this on the bed, the stash cupboard is still full. But there's no purple. I did claim I would never buy any more fabric but... what can a person do? 

A jolly candidate

Well, hello 2025, and Happy New Year to anyone reading this. I have very little idea who that might be, other than a few kind commenters, but according to Google there are quite a few others hanging around on the sidelines. I myself do sometimes read blogs that I don't comment on, though not often. So hello anyway. 

My brother and sister-in-law went down south again yesterday, so we've just been gently pottering about, putting things back in their usual places, washing sheets, watching programmes that we've recorded, and so on. Also going for walks, such as this one yesterday, along the path beside the golf course. It's funny how hills always look much smaller in photos than they do to the eye. These are the Pentlands, and you can't see, but they're covered in snow. 

It was a beautiful day yesterday, and also today, but rather chilly. Not many people were on the path. 

But the light was beautiful. 

At our ages, 74 and 76, it's impossible not to wonder from time to time how many more New Years we'll see. My brother is now 77, and though he's very fit as far as he knows - well, none of us does know for whom the bell will toll (next). 

Still, I always remember Charles Lamb in The Essays of Elia, writing, "I survive, a jolly candidate for 1821", and that seems a good attitude. We're fine. We hope to continue thus for a while. Meanwhile I simply must start another quilt. 

I've been writing this blog for nearly 19 years. I'm slightly sad that there's no easy way (is there?) to print it out economically and concisely, since it's a record of these years. I've seen companies that will do it as a fancy book, with one page per entry or whatever, and all the photos, at vast expense.  This would take up more pages than I'd like to leave for my descendants to deal with.

Anyway, on with 2025. 

 

Waxing and waning

Well, that was Christmas. I hope that anyone reading this had a lovely time. Ours was busy, but good. Daughter 2 and her husband and Littlest Granddaughter came up from London and my brother, wife and their daughter came up from Cambridge. Here are Littlest and Biggest Granddaughters on a climbing wall before Christmas. 

And here is Littlest playing with her robot dog, which was her main present. We had both daughters and families (12 of us) on Christmas Day, and Son and family came down on Boxing Day (so 16 of us). 

We've done nothing spectacular: eaten a fair bit, talked a lot, gone for some walks - that sort of thing. Here are some of us at the Botanics. See that chap in a blue jacket at the end of the path? That's Biggest Grandson. He's growing fast! Where is that enchanting squashy baby who made me a granny?

Daughter 2 and family left the day before yesterday to go down to Nottingham, where SIL 2's parents live. And Niece left yesterday afternoon. So the party is shrinking, which is sad but peaceful. 

Nearly the end of 2024, then. That was a quick year. Still, we're still alive and well, so we have a lot to be grateful for. 

 

Good times, rolling

After a couple of quiet weeks, I went over the water (this is North Queensferry) to Dundee, to meet up with Mr L's cousin (he has a selection of these) and go to the kimono exhibition at the Dundee Victoria and Albert museum. 

It was very interesting. This kimono was made between 1800 and 1860. The embroidery was amazingly detailed. 

This was made between 1680 and 1705. Isn't it amazing condition, considering its age? It has characters on it which refer to a poem about the mountain rose or yamabuki: 

Were even a single flower

On the double-flowered yamabuki

In my garden

To remain,

It would be reminder of spring. 

(Yes, I know what you mean, poet - and this was from a collection of poems compiled by the Emperor Kazan in about 1005. We don't really change, do we?)

I did wonder why some of the pattern matching on the joins of the beautiful kimonos was slightly wonky, but then it turns out that the pieces are cut, then embroidered, then joined together. As below.

So that's why. In fact, it's a miracle that they match as well as they do, considering that it's all pre-decorated. Wow. 

Then last night I went with Daughter 1 and the Edinburgh Two to the Botanics light show, because we almost always do. It's so nice that the grandchildren still want to go. I savour every moment of their company, because they're growing up, and will soon not need to be taken places. 

Big Grandson is at least a head taller than me now, and has a nice group of school friends with whom he does stuff. I'm sure they're much more interesting to him than his granny, but he still comes round to see us. 

This is what the little greenhouse looked like, lit up. 

It was all very pretty. 

Then today we went back up to Dundee, to spend time with Son and his little Unbloggables. So lovely.

And now I should be getting ready for the arrival of Daughter 2, her husband and Littlest Granddaughter tomorrow, and my brother, sister-in-law and niece on Monday. Let the good times roll!