Dawn of the Day
Peter Swan
The view from my bedroom of the Montrose Dockyard Godowns and Ferryden Lighthouse is far from inspiring. What I enjoy is the sight of the night sky with the evening star occasionally curdled up to the moon. Sadly the dockyard security lights blanket out the more distant stars. After the panorama of the desert sky and even more spectacular starry display while afloat the South China Seas the sight of the Evening Star is a comforting reminder of my children living in Sumatra. An advantage of the Industrial outlooks it that I am not overlooked and can sleep with the curtains open to be woken by daylight, the way it used to be in my travels between the tropics.
Day starts with a chat to the tomato plant that grows without my authority in the pot meant for some ornate flower. Having eaten of the fruit, the intrusion of the plant now pleases me. There is a smell to the leaves that brings back memories of my father, who during the war years, tended to his tomatoes with great dedication. Out of my window my view has been enhanced a little by nesting gulls that have raised a family of three on top of one of the godown roofs. The nest intrigues me as it has grown to the size of a smallholding and I can well imagine the Council will soon be looking to the Montrose Harbour Board for planning permission. While the Gull family opposite intrigues me, the discovery of a pair of two young on my own roof aroused different emotions. Replacing weather-beaten putty round the windows with fresh putty impregnated with linseed oil the young gulls thought I was providing a change of diet. My squatters flourished. Leaks appeared around the windows. I mused upon the done thing; does an owner have to go down with his house in the manner of sea going skippers and their ships?
Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturdays are the days I work at the CHS Charity Shop. On my amble up to the town centre a visit to the local newsagents for a copy of the Courier gives me food for thought. Do the daily crossword, the Sudoku and Dingbats to anything to keep Alzheimers at bay? It has been easier to swap bullets and fight fires than to contemplate that disease. At the charity shop it feels great to be a learner again. I wonder why? All my working life has been spent with macho type males and the CHS environment is all female. A mildly militant female aura is manifest. Being at the bottom of the ladder has, for me, a certain pleasure. The customers are generally pleasant. Any customer entering is greeted with the standard salutations, and a Good bye and thank you when they leave. Montrose, like Arbroath has a wealth of charity shops and it is only now on revisiting these shops that I realise there are volunteers seemingly too shy to offer such greetings. Sad. So many people have a tale to tell. A woman buying a souvenir of Australia turned out to have lived there for twenty years. Such information curtailed my tale of a five day visit to attend my nephews wedding in Sydney. A distinguished looking gentleman bought a painting of African elephants. We had a common interest in African Bush life. I had spent four years in Kenya. He however had gone down to South Africa as a professional footballer for Blackpool. He must have been good. He had even trained occasionally alongside Sir Stanley Matthews. My hero! He told of having at one time got hold of a set of the mans boots. Then, came the bitter bit of the story. Not related with any undue rancour but a chapter relevant to an event that could have excused a vindictive response. The boots have been stolen when a gang broke into his house in South Africa and stole or vandalised all that they found in there. Sadly this included his daughter who suffered slashing about her body and face. The scars remain. There are also many from Canada! Tales of a land of sunshine and bird life in an area I always imagined had a perpetually cold and inhospitable environment. I blame Jack London. A woman impresses me more than any other customer. She has an autistic daughter of 17 or so. The daughter is noisy and brash but quite lucid and seeking CDs and VHS tapes of her choice. In such small shops there are customers who go when she appears. Our volunteers serve her and relate to her. It is the mother who impresses. She looks after and guiders her child with a patience and serenity that is enviable. To me she has the impact of a living Mona Lisa. Such consideration would be beyond my compass. Sadly the CHS shop, being a Scottish Charity does not get the financial benefits that National Charities get and rate and rental expenditure takes us from the High Street to Murray Street. Such a location affects sales.
A bright side to my day is having found a delightful location for my lunch-time break. Rejoicing in the name of B-Lo, it is down at cellar level in Market Street. My stand by meal from the a la carte menu is honeyed pancakes with bacon and local fruits. I am salivating as I type. Having experimentally partaken of foodstuffs in some remote areas of the worked and enjoyed those culinary adventures B-Lo is providing me with very palatable fare. In many of the dishes they have intertwined pomegranate to add to the other subtle tastes, best yet has been the Cajun Pork which intertwined the pork with spices and local fruits to wonderful effect. ... (continues)
