Celebrations / Occasions

To rekindle nostalgic memories of Dundee and Broughty Ferry, I worked here in 1966, a 24 year old East London Sassenach but staying in St Vincent Street, Broughty Ferry. Loved the city, the people, the atmosphere. Used the Sliding Tackle pub, (Dear old Bobby Cox, the pub manager), John(?) the Locarno (?) ballroom) the Chalet along the seafront, and a hotel on a Sunday with a fab band, on the banks of the Tay river on Broughty Ferry Road. Weekday dinners at the Timex factory canteen, suggested by friendly locals. Happy days.  

These are my memories of Dundee. I have lived in Ireland for thirty years now, but go back home at least once a year.

Down Memory Lane

I’m taking a trip down Memory Lane,
Down through the years to my childhood again,
I’ll let you walk with me and maybe you’ll see,
Places and times, the things special to me. Read more......

I was born in Maryfield Hospital in 1947. My mum Ruby Fisken was a long time nurse there. My dad Jim played the piano in a local band that played at the dancehalls. I used to go and sit by his side. By the time the night was over, you couldn't see anyone's heads for the secondhand smoke.

In summer, I loved going for a day at Broughty Beach. When the bus would start and stop, all the shells of the wilks would run back and forward. Read more......

(Dedicated to the Westminster Abbey Company of Ringers – 29th April 2011)

With tongues untied
They were proud
To project their voices
To the crowd
With virtuoso flare
When love was truly in the air

A regal sound
Ringing the skies – touching the ground
Chiming in celebration
Of this royal occasion

Majestic campanology
In attendance – an emotional day

Listeners – far and near
Lent an appreciative ear

Silently at dawn
Bell-ringers memories lingered on
With each tongue-tied voice
Have reason to rejoice.
 

Abusing alcohol!
Consider - you might lose control
One drink - maybe two
Till one day it's got a hold on you
Blurring vision
Scorching the mind
Entering dimension of a different kind
Encouraging the soul's demise
Till - ultimately - thro' despairing eyes
Despising the vessel from which you sip
You're compelled to raise to your lip
In nauseous intoxication
Consider the risks being taken

I was brought up in Ninewells and am now 63 years old. It is amazing how much this place has changed in a fairly short time. Gone is Bill Davidson's wee shop, Joe Johnstone's smiddy, Lauries's nursery and the greenhouses behind it. Ninewell's garage is still there, albeit much changed and no longer a petrol station. There was also another petrol station close to where the railway bridge crossed over the Perth Road by Johnny Callaghan's scrapyard. Read more......

Citizens are partying today
Chasing clouds away
Singing with Dundee
It’s The Queen’s Diamond Jubilee Read more......

I saw a young man regularly on the tramcar and liked the look of him. One day I had the chance to sit beside him and I took it. I unfastened my charm bracelet, shook my arm and it fell at his feet. We both bent down to pick it up and bumped heads. I pretended the bump was quite sore, he was apologetic and said he felt bad, we chatted and when it was my stop he insisted he walked me home. We went out regularly after that and married two years later.