HumpDay Quickie #126

Posted: February 15, 2017 in Hump-Day Quickies
Tags: , , , , ,

The Fierce Traditions Of Scotland

by Ewan Smith

“It’s all such crap, Homish,” Kirstie muttered in disgust, poking at the muddy ground with a stick. “They’re not even big; Scottish men are never big. But they’re prancing about in that show-ring with their muscles and their cabers and their heavy stones…”

The two of them were sitting on the grass leaning back against the wheels of a horsebox. Somewhere in the distance they could hear the cheers of the crowd, the tinny voice of the announcer.

“It’s 2017, for God’s sake!” she cried out. “All the political parties in this country are led by women. But here we are watching a bunch of oiled up men throwing trees around as if that’s some sort of basis for admiration.” Her mouth was writhing in a twisting sneer.

“Where are the women in that show-ring? Where are the gay men?”

Homish held up his hand with a grin. “Here, miss.”

She turned to him with a look of fury. “Don’t joke about yourself, Homish,” she said, her voice scalding in its intensity. “Don’t ever make yourself less than what you are.”

Homish smiled awkwardly and looked away. He had never known her to be so serious.

“You’re in a strange mood.”

She let out a loud groan of frustration. “This country is so fake. All our traditions were invented for the sake of the tourists. Bloody kilts. Have you ever seen anything as stupid as a Scottish Country Dance Competition? Our national drink with its pretend colour…”

“Is that Irn Bru you’re talking about?” grinned Homish.

In the distance, the crowd was starting to sing ‘Flower Of Scotland’.

“Oh God, that song!” cried Kirstie, hurling her stick at a nearby 4 x 4. “We even have a fake national anthem. It happened 700 years ago, for Christ’s sake!” She jumped to her feet in disgust, grabbing her roll of black bags and litter picker. “Come on, it must be finishing. Let’s go and earn our minimum wage.”

Homish stood up. “Jenny Geddes,” he called out, hurrying after her. “Flora McDonald – the Edinburgh Seven.”

“What are you gibbering about?”

Fierce women, he thought to himself; that tradition was true enough.


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