‘I’m a gie auld troot’, said he tae hissel’,
‘A gie auld troot’, said he.
-----------------------------------------------
‘But I’m the big fish that nae fisher can heuk,
An’ I’ll aye be that till I dee’.
Sandy Ross
Robert’s a spoilsport. When we saw the children’s fun day in Kay Park, we were desperate for a go on the bouncy castle. But Robert ruined all thoughts of juvenile enjoyment by taking us round the fun day to view the new Burns Monument Centre and the Reformer’s Monument. All very nice and interesting in an adult sort of way but we would much rather have had a go on the bouncy things. But, this was Robert’s walk and he had other ideas. The reason it was Robert’s walk today was down to his continued recuperation. After the exertions of last week, we felt it was better to let the old fellow have an easier, flatter walk today, but what really swung it in favour of his Crawfurdland Circular Walk was the promise of more pakora at his house at the end of it. So we forewent the idea of the bouncy castle to follow him round to the Burns Monument Centre and the Reformer’s Monument.
Only five of us gathered at Robert’s place, the rest taking the advantage of the summer to have a holiday from this retirement lark. But the five of us enjoyed the pleasantly warm day that Robert had laid on for us and set off through Kay Park to Dean Park. We took a high road through the trees of the Dean, avoiding the crowds in the busier parts. The wood was silent today, the warblers that are the mainstay of our woodland birdsong, having departed for parts warmer. And who can blame them considering the weather he have had this last month or so. So, we walked on, with only the crunch of boots on gravel and the blethers of the Ooters disturbing the calm of a quiet wood. We did spot some wildlife to please the naturalist though; two grey squirrels scampered across a clearing and into a tree. But that was the only thing of note as we continued through the quiet wood.
The path took us to Assloss, to the riding centre there. Jimmy asked if the house was the original Assloss House but neither of the Kilmarnockians could confirm this*. We found tarmac at Assloss and turned left along it. Jimmy and Robert did turn right and we thought that they were lost again but it was only so that Robert could show the inquisitor what he thought was Assloss house. Ronnie knew this to be Assloss Cottage so the riding centre may well be the old house. It remains a point for research.
We turned left along the tarmac now. This brought to by Boreland where we took the private road towards Craufurldand. There is no restriction in walking this road or in the grounds of Craufurdland so long as the privacy of the castle and its immediate environs are respected. We respected this privacy and turned onto a track through a wood appropriately named Rushybog Plantation. This was the wettest, muckiest part of the walk, not surprising really given the rain of the last few weeks and the name of the area, and care was taken as to feet placement. It is slightly disappointing to report that nobody slipped and fell and we arrive at the Craufurland fishery in one piece.
Fishers are philosophical optimists. They have to be. Many long hours standing up to the oxters in some river or motionless by some watery bank gives them plenty of time to outthink Aristotle, and develop a degree of patience that Job would be proud of. And it’s never their fault if the fish don’t bite; the wind is in the wrong direction, the sun is too bright or too dull, it’s too early, or too late in the day, the government don’t train the fish the way they used to - it’s just never their fault. The only thing that keeps them going is the thought of the big one that’s eluded them so far but which is out there just waiting to be caught. Many fishers – up to fifteen - sat silently round the pool today (standing being too much for some), each with his own thoughts but failing to share them with his neighbour.
We spoke to some on the way round and the answers were as above. It’s not their fault that the fish don’t bite. And in the twenty minutes or so it took us to walk round the pond, the fish didn’t bite.
We were in need of a bite, though, or at least a coffee so we settled down on a picnic bench beside the portacabin that serves as the fishery office. It’s a good thing that we are, basically, a cheery bunch for, so far, the conversations had been less so. When walking through the Dean woods to Assloss we discussed funerals and preparations for our demise. Walking towards Craufurdland we talked about cancers and other painful illnesses. Now we turned our attention to aging, debilitating conditions, vegetative existence and euthanasia. It wasn’t until Davie rose to throw himself in the fishing pond that we felt we’d better change the subject. Then a fisher landed a fish and the whole conversation changed. There is hope after all, Davie.
In the absence of Johnny, Robert volunteered to take the ‘fishal photie’, the only one of the day, then we were on our way again. We found tarmac just beyond the fishery and turned right along it. The self-same dogs that barked their spite at us the last time we came this way (20/6/07) repeated the process this time. But that didn’t prevent us from stopping on the wee bridge some twenty yards beyond their pen for a look at the wee glen there. Last time we came here, we took a pad down the side of the wee burn and back to the dean that way. Today Robert suggested a longer walk and as the day was yet young, we agreed and kept to tarmac.
The day was turned warm and the air was clear. From the elevated ground around Raws we could look southward to see Cairnsmore of Carsphairn rise on the horizon. And Windy Standard was pointed out to those who have yet to see the top from close up, just to prove that the sun does occasionally shine on this hill. But the distant views only lasted a wee while for we now dropped into the valley of the Irvine.
Robert had intended that we follow tarmac for a bit yet but Ronnie knew a better way. We left the road and took to a wee woodland walk called Armsheugh. This was a delightful, shady part of the walk and brought us down to the river. Lunch was called and when we reached a deepish pool, we sat and ate.
Holly enjoyed the spot we chose to eat. There was a deepish pool there, and a stick. It has to be recorded for posterity that it was Jimmy who threw the stick for her this time, something that holly hasn’t known in the three years of her life though she has tried hard. She is bound to be thinking that she has cracked the last nut. It remains to be seen. However, he threw the stick toady and Holly enjoyed the swim to fetch it. ‘But pleasures are like poppies' spread’ and we had to curtail her enjoyment eventually and walk on.
We found tarmac again at Templetonburn and stuck with it to the end of the walk. It brought us by the old Crokedholm School, over the bypass by a bridge and back into Killie.
This was a different type of walk for the Ooters today but one enjoyed by all.
Robert’s back garden caught the afternoon sun again today as we sat there taking fluid replenishment and eating his pakora. بہت اچھا, مسٹر McGarry.
*Further research provided the following information: Assloss riding stables occupy the nineteenth century Assloss House and surrounding outbuildings. The original Assloss, or Auchinsloss, tower-house still stands as part of Assloss Mains Farm. This tower was one of three in the valley – Dean, Assloss and Craufurldland – and was the seat the Achinloss family who received the charter of the land from Queen Mary in 1543. The tower was probably built around this time. The nineteenth century house was built by the Glen family who bought the estate in 1725.
‘A gie auld troot’, said he.
-----------------------------------------------
‘But I’m the big fish that nae fisher can heuk,
An’ I’ll aye be that till I dee’.
Sandy Ross
Robert’s a spoilsport. When we saw the children’s fun day in Kay Park, we were desperate for a go on the bouncy castle. But Robert ruined all thoughts of juvenile enjoyment by taking us round the fun day to view the new Burns Monument Centre and the Reformer’s Monument. All very nice and interesting in an adult sort of way but we would much rather have had a go on the bouncy things. But, this was Robert’s walk and he had other ideas. The reason it was Robert’s walk today was down to his continued recuperation. After the exertions of last week, we felt it was better to let the old fellow have an easier, flatter walk today, but what really swung it in favour of his Crawfurdland Circular Walk was the promise of more pakora at his house at the end of it. So we forewent the idea of the bouncy castle to follow him round to the Burns Monument Centre and the Reformer’s Monument.
Only five of us gathered at Robert’s place, the rest taking the advantage of the summer to have a holiday from this retirement lark. But the five of us enjoyed the pleasantly warm day that Robert had laid on for us and set off through Kay Park to Dean Park. We took a high road through the trees of the Dean, avoiding the crowds in the busier parts. The wood was silent today, the warblers that are the mainstay of our woodland birdsong, having departed for parts warmer. And who can blame them considering the weather he have had this last month or so. So, we walked on, with only the crunch of boots on gravel and the blethers of the Ooters disturbing the calm of a quiet wood. We did spot some wildlife to please the naturalist though; two grey squirrels scampered across a clearing and into a tree. But that was the only thing of note as we continued through the quiet wood.
The path took us to Assloss, to the riding centre there. Jimmy asked if the house was the original Assloss House but neither of the Kilmarnockians could confirm this*. We found tarmac at Assloss and turned left along it. Jimmy and Robert did turn right and we thought that they were lost again but it was only so that Robert could show the inquisitor what he thought was Assloss house. Ronnie knew this to be Assloss Cottage so the riding centre may well be the old house. It remains a point for research.
We turned left along the tarmac now. This brought to by Boreland where we took the private road towards Craufurldand. There is no restriction in walking this road or in the grounds of Craufurdland so long as the privacy of the castle and its immediate environs are respected. We respected this privacy and turned onto a track through a wood appropriately named Rushybog Plantation. This was the wettest, muckiest part of the walk, not surprising really given the rain of the last few weeks and the name of the area, and care was taken as to feet placement. It is slightly disappointing to report that nobody slipped and fell and we arrive at the Craufurland fishery in one piece.
Fishers are philosophical optimists. They have to be. Many long hours standing up to the oxters in some river or motionless by some watery bank gives them plenty of time to outthink Aristotle, and develop a degree of patience that Job would be proud of. And it’s never their fault if the fish don’t bite; the wind is in the wrong direction, the sun is too bright or too dull, it’s too early, or too late in the day, the government don’t train the fish the way they used to - it’s just never their fault. The only thing that keeps them going is the thought of the big one that’s eluded them so far but which is out there just waiting to be caught. Many fishers – up to fifteen - sat silently round the pool today (standing being too much for some), each with his own thoughts but failing to share them with his neighbour.
We spoke to some on the way round and the answers were as above. It’s not their fault that the fish don’t bite. And in the twenty minutes or so it took us to walk round the pond, the fish didn’t bite.
We were in need of a bite, though, or at least a coffee so we settled down on a picnic bench beside the portacabin that serves as the fishery office. It’s a good thing that we are, basically, a cheery bunch for, so far, the conversations had been less so. When walking through the Dean woods to Assloss we discussed funerals and preparations for our demise. Walking towards Craufurdland we talked about cancers and other painful illnesses. Now we turned our attention to aging, debilitating conditions, vegetative existence and euthanasia. It wasn’t until Davie rose to throw himself in the fishing pond that we felt we’d better change the subject. Then a fisher landed a fish and the whole conversation changed. There is hope after all, Davie.
In the absence of Johnny, Robert volunteered to take the ‘fishal photie’, the only one of the day, then we were on our way again. We found tarmac just beyond the fishery and turned right along it. The self-same dogs that barked their spite at us the last time we came this way (20/6/07) repeated the process this time. But that didn’t prevent us from stopping on the wee bridge some twenty yards beyond their pen for a look at the wee glen there. Last time we came here, we took a pad down the side of the wee burn and back to the dean that way. Today Robert suggested a longer walk and as the day was yet young, we agreed and kept to tarmac.
The day was turned warm and the air was clear. From the elevated ground around Raws we could look southward to see Cairnsmore of Carsphairn rise on the horizon. And Windy Standard was pointed out to those who have yet to see the top from close up, just to prove that the sun does occasionally shine on this hill. But the distant views only lasted a wee while for we now dropped into the valley of the Irvine.
Robert had intended that we follow tarmac for a bit yet but Ronnie knew a better way. We left the road and took to a wee woodland walk called Armsheugh. This was a delightful, shady part of the walk and brought us down to the river. Lunch was called and when we reached a deepish pool, we sat and ate.
Holly enjoyed the spot we chose to eat. There was a deepish pool there, and a stick. It has to be recorded for posterity that it was Jimmy who threw the stick for her this time, something that holly hasn’t known in the three years of her life though she has tried hard. She is bound to be thinking that she has cracked the last nut. It remains to be seen. However, he threw the stick toady and Holly enjoyed the swim to fetch it. ‘But pleasures are like poppies' spread’ and we had to curtail her enjoyment eventually and walk on.
We found tarmac again at Templetonburn and stuck with it to the end of the walk. It brought us by the old Crokedholm School, over the bypass by a bridge and back into Killie.
This was a different type of walk for the Ooters today but one enjoyed by all.
Robert’s back garden caught the afternoon sun again today as we sat there taking fluid replenishment and eating his pakora. بہت اچھا, مسٹر McGarry.
*Further research provided the following information: Assloss riding stables occupy the nineteenth century Assloss House and surrounding outbuildings. The original Assloss, or Auchinsloss, tower-house still stands as part of Assloss Mains Farm. This tower was one of three in the valley – Dean, Assloss and Craufurldland – and was the seat the Achinloss family who received the charter of the land from Queen Mary in 1543. The tower was probably built around this time. The nineteenth century house was built by the Glen family who bought the estate in 1725.
No comments:
Post a Comment