10th May 2009

11 May

14 years ago I was wandering around Dunfermline having been out for an Italian meal the evening before thinking – my back is killing me. I was only 34+2 with baby number 1… I didn’t know what labour felt like. I only phoned the hospital because my Mum (who was staying over for ONE NIGHT before flying home to China with my Dad) insisted. Long story involving much dithering and “well is it really sore?”,  “well no but it is kind of every 3 minutes or so” I got there and delivered my 6lb4oz preemie in 45 minutes. Dr Marian’s classic bedside manner…

DrM: “Well that’s not a premature baby”

Me: “I can assure you it is”

DrM: “Oh was it that memorable?”

Me: “No, that rare”

Med Students: “snigger, snigger, cough, ahem”

DrM: gives evil look of death and stalks off….

A Saturday shopping trip that saw me down a bottle of wine and 2 Mai Tais meant the car was left behind outside the pub in town.  So when Son1 was off at rugby training I took the birthday girl and Pog to pick up the car. She tried to get him laughing by the river – it was Laughter week after all.

I need to find an excuse more often to go into town on a Sunday morning… it’s quiet. You look up. You see it’s actually quite a pretty place when you’re not scurrying around trying to avoid people. We spotted these three elegant ladies in one of the back wynds looking far too dressed up even for Church… and can you believe the planning department allow such a monstrosity as this pink and purple pub to exist?

I stumbled on this, right slap bang in the middle of town, Greyfriars Burial Ground. Now I knew it was there, I’m not that fey, but I’m usually in town after dark or on a Saturday and old burial grounds aren’t my thing at those times. This dates back to 1580, it’s just gorgeous.

Same shot pseudo HDr’d

We couldn’t quite come up with a 3 year old friendly explanation for the place so I let DD just spill the beans. He’s got the gist it’s full of skeletons but not sure he grasped the “dead” bit. He slept fine that night so no lasting damage.

Big sister hugs always help of course…

Then we heard a pipe band, and just managed to catch sight of the High Constables* parading behind them. We ran, we could hear them but could we blinkin’ well find them? Pog found a shortcut, we waited, and when there was no sign of them we wandered round to St John’s Kirk and we’d missed the whole thing. Typical. Take a 14 year old goth to town and spend way too long at the tombs.

And that was Sunday, when my “baby” turned 14. We made and devoured cake, we drank fizzy stuff  (you’d think I’d learn….) and ate quesadillas with Pioneer Woman’s Pico de Gallo, which is damn fine. There’s some left. I have chips….

* Apparently it was the Kirkin’ of the Council, something to do with John Knox preaching at St Johns Kirk in 1559 and inciting a riot – I’m just a heathen – I know nuthin’! (but they top hatted dudes were High Constables).


2 Responses to “10th May 2009”

  1. Dana~from chaos to Grace May 14, 2009 at 12:03 am #

    GORGEOUS!! The KIDS! The little TO-DIE-FOR town! And the CEMETARY! I have a fascination with them too…who knows why…

    I love seeing your pictures….WOW…

  2. mrsw May 15, 2009 at 3:52 pm #

    Yeah – I’m sensing a theme here. I’m surrounded by graveyards and churches. I reckon you could throw a tennis ball from church to church and get it all the way across Perth without it hitting the ground. There are far too many for a town this size (approx 40,000). When 30 of my family/friends/other invitees turned out for a christening at St Johns it raised the congregation to at least 40 (nearly ended at 39 cos I swear if the minister had droned on much longer it was me or him).

    I’m guessing there must have been a spurt of “my phallic spire is bigger than your phallic spire” building many moons ago. Boys and their bricks huh?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: