A favourite quote...

There have been great societies that did not use the wheel, but there have been no societies that did not tell stories.”

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Mary Elphinstone

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It was a cold spring morning when my friend and I stopped off in Inverurie on the way home from a party the night before. We got some snacks for breakfast and made our way to the old graveyard in the hope of finding some of the old pictish carvings that have been moved there for safekeeping. We found them and were just considering climbing up the old Motte which is situated within the graveyard when there was an eerie voice coming seemingly out of nowhere... "Mornin'!!! Huv ye ever heard the story o' twice buried Mary?" (When I tell this story, he sounds a lot like Private Fraser from Dad's Army. That might help you hear him in your mind). We looked around and first of all saw no-one, but eventually, just over the dyke of the kirkyard, we saw a wee grinning mannie, walking his dog by the burn. He then told us the story of Mary Elphinstone... Well, many years ago in the village of Inverurie, there lived a young lassie who had been happily married for a good...
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And the Boddamers Hung the Monkey-O

My dad's father's folks were from Boddam, just south of Peterhead on the north-east coast of Scotland. Now I can't claim to be any sort of myth-historian but I do know that this story has become quite famous as originating in Hartlepool. Some research suggests that the Hartlepool myth comes from the Boddam version of the story, written in a song which pre-dates the Hartlepool story. A Geordie music hall performer called Ned Corvan is said to have come in to contact with the Boddam song whilst touring and then to have updated the story for his Hartlepool audience. The story goes that in days of old (during the Napoleonic Wars with France) you weren’t allowed to plunder a ship unless there was not a living soul aboard a ship…. The Boddamers used to light fires along the coast so the sailors would think they were light houses and the ships would crash on the rocks. If no living souls were on the boat, the locals were entitled to the plunder… However, there was on this o...
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The Kipper Under The Table

This is one of my dad's stories which I love begging him to tell me! This one goes back to the 50's/60's when Dad was joinering in Glasgow. His company provided accommodation complete with breakfast and dinner. However his landlady was a bit stingy and used to make them porridge sandwiches which was made from the porridge drawer.* Now, this wasn’t too impressive considering as he was supposed to get the usual meat and veg type diet that joiners and yard workers should be entitled to… (I'm sure you've heard of the legendary scottish diet!) Also her wee dog was what my dad called "a yappy little bugger in need of a good kick" (Not that he would - he likes dogs, my dad does!) There also seems to have been a bit of bad blood between the lodgers and the landlady (perhaps in addition to the porridge sandwiches and yappy dog) so when dad left the establishment, he nailed a kipper under the table! A couple of years later, dad met an old mate of his that ha...
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