Virginia Barton

12 September 2014: September song


12 September 2014


2086393_Scotland-Scottish-Flag-700Here, it’s all things Scottish, and enough politics to make your eyeballs swivel. Scotland the Brave, with a skirl of pipes and a flash of tartan or a mournful Highland lament. I shall come clean; the 1/8 of my allotted 8 pints of blood is Lowland Graham, which means my sympathies are with the Queen and behind the Union. Respect for Independence, of course, but it’s not practical. Think of the taxes you’ll face, you canny Scots.


But you can’t blame Scotland for feeling it’s been short-changed by London; for starters, there are 532.3 km between Edinburgh and Westminster, and it would take you just over seven hours to drive the distance in today’s traffic. It’s enough to make you feel cut off. Most folk north of Watford feel remote from the seat of government, and that makes for independent emotions. People feel ignored by the ultra-hectic superior navel-gazing that goes on in the capital city.

Now there is overkill by the media and everyone bar those entitled to vote are longing for the result on September 18th so that other important subjects may come into focus again.


There’s a certain amount of resentment in England – some people feel disenfranchised, for no-one has asked them what their opinion might be.  Wales and the English regions raise a small fists threateningly. “Devolution is coming to your Neighbourhood!”

I worry about the price of BH’s favourite malt… do the Chinese brew/export it yet, I wonder?




Now for something completely different. I must cast a backward glance at The Ancestor before she retires into the shade. Notice the photo above of Dali expiring quietly in a diving-bell, surrounded by (seated) acolytes and admirers.

In the background, however, there is a row of members of the audience. The Ancestor stands, feet in the fifth position, on the left as you look at the picture. She is wearing a dark dress (“Never a high neck dear, it makes one’s  throat look so short.”) with a light jacket. She is holding an open programme, I assume, and of course wearing her hat.

I’d stake my life on that being her. Just WISH I could show it to her! She would immediately demand to be removed from the photograph.






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