Isle of Gigha

If you’re looking for a change of scenery and a fine place to recharge, look no farther than …
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Halfway through 2016 and Reflecting

I think it’s the early sunrise and especially bright eye-squinting mornings, just a little south of the 49th parallel, that reminded me today that we’re almost at the halfway point of 2016. Whoosh! That’s how time goes – and that’s how time flies. And so, as not to forget, and maybe omit something from what will surely turn out to be a mighty and interesting late-December 2016 summary, I thought I’d jot down a few personal highlights of the year that’s been so far. Not for you, of course, but for me! Me. Me. Me.

When thinking, in processing thoughts, just what makes a person think – of anything? What ignites a thought? A chance meeting with a new acquaintance or old friend? An email, a text, a dog’s bark, the weather, an online video, the news – the cat licking it’s arse – what random action or environmental thing triggers (and apologies in advance for using that word) a thought or thinking? And, again, in this case, thinking as reflection.
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A Musician’s Struggle: Rehearsal Space

When you’re a musician it’s never easy finding practice or rehearsal space. In big cities especially, high density and thin walls make snagging the right reliable place tricky in the extreme. But when you’re a piper – or group, like a pipe band – the challenge is layered with bias, barriers and brutal complication. I’ve found myself “practicing” tunes in some seriously ropey places: the B3, or third sub-level, of an underground parking lot on Bay Street across from Toronto City Hall, pretty much every men’s WC of any indoor contest or event I have ever participated in and the reclined front passenger seat of a Renault 5 (in the pouring rain while parked on Dunollie Terrace, Oban).
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Dunrovin Farm, North Hatley, Quebec

This past Saturday I found my way back to the homeland, Quebec’s Eastern Townships, for a flying visit: there and back the same day. By far the shortest visit I’ve made to this place, about 750 kilometres from where I live today. Fleeting? Yes. But sweetly memorable. The occasion, sadly, was a funeral. Though the service, on this day in the small 19th century country church, was for a man who lived a good long life, a life lived well and one with a legacy of seriously fine people – and a lot of stories. Stories galore. Gordon Stuart was a big man who lived large. And so this day, marked a fine send-off and a quiet celebration marking goodness and a good life. Surely this is at the core of why we have funerals.
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Jane Campbell: An Early Look at a Tune [Drum Score]

You may know I’ve been working a little these days to help make the January 30, 2016, “Live in Ireland 87” concert happen. In doing that I’ve found myself going through my (many) boxes of scores, letters and other assorted ephemera. I can say with hand on heart that, over the years, I really have saved a lot of paper.
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Toothpaste and Judges

Judges working around the games might be compared, in a way, to a tube of toothpaste. Yep. You read that right.
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Cowal Games 1929

Say what you like, but I’ve always liked Cowal Games. Of those I recall, my memories are nothing but the happiest – or – at least – really good. OK. Not always, “really good”, but memorable. Yes. Memorable. Well, mostly memorable, but usually fun. Cowal, as much, if not more, than other contests, has given me some stuff to remember. I’ve socked it all away and stand today with a good few stories to regale the unsuspecting at the drop of a hat. Cowal Games: you rock.
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The Worlds: Fish Suppers all ‘Round!

Here’s a curiosity: a long-ago-redeemed copy of a cheque. Usually such a thing isn’t much interest except maybe for keen auditors (redundant, I know; of course, all auditors are keen), but this image is one for the few pipe band historians around: this is a copy of the cheque that paid out first prize to the 78th Fraser Highlanders at the World Pipe Band Championships in 1987.
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Glasgow 1901

A sort of random posting here: a really interesting video clip filmed in April of 1901 of Jamaica Street, Glasgow. An old street name, even for Glasgow, the thoroughfare, or, at least, the street named Jamaica, opened in the late 18th century and was apparently named for the then raging rum and sugar trade.
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HBD Hector MacDonald

A photograph today: In honour of Hector MacDonald and his milestone birthday this week. And with it a nice bit of video here showing a little of Constable MacDonald’s other non-piping talents.
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