Eight Things We’ve Considered, Late At Night

1. The number for emergency services in the UK is not 911, as it is in the U.S., but 999. And 991 is not a reasonable substitute. (No, we haven’t needed to call for emergency services. But these are things you think about. Late at night.)
2. Toffee-nosed is an actual phrase not-in-books people say. As in, “Ooh, aye, in Edinburgh, they’re all a toffee-nosed lot,” which is a direct quote from a lovely smiley woman in Dunkeld, who was obviously not toffee-nosed, nor from Edinburgh. Since this is a real phrase, we can now gladly lob it into casual conversation.
3. It is not wise to lob, in casual conversation, words and phrases with meanings unclear. If toffee-nosed means something other than “stuck-up snobs who won’t speak to you in the street,” then one could be in some discomfort after that casual conversational moment.
4. There are live animals in the city other than pigeons and seagulls. There are rats. In the park. Big ones. You may now argue this point vociferously with anyone who disagrees with you. We have recently had this argument. In public.
5. People in the British Isles don’t eat cookies, right? They eat biscuits. Nor are biscuits here biscuits, they’re scones. Glaswegians in our neighborhood enjoy their scones. Except – is it scoon as rhymed with spoon, or is it scone as rhymed with bone?
6. Apparently you are toffee-nosed, if you say scone-that-rhymes-with-bone. If you’re just an everyday bloke, you say scon-that-rhymes-with-yawn.
7. Perhaps one should ask for toast.
8. Or, a flapjack. However, despite the name borrowed from North American cuisine, they are not what one expects. In a tea shop last weekend, we saw a plastic container full of “flapjacks” which were not pancakes. They were… oat bars. The basic recipe includes butter, sugar, corn syrup and oats. This is basically oat shortbread by another name.

We may have a few late hours in which to consider these deep thoughts on this city, as there is a man outside with a jackhammer, tearing up what amounts to be a canyon in the street.

There is always so much excitement in this town. Two nights ago, our water was shut off for six hours — fortunately, we simply filled up bottles and went to bed, sleeping through most of the inconvenience. We have kept bottles filled ever since, however, because obviously, there’s a problem. Scottish Water is out and about, digging, jackhammering, and listening with earphones to hear the leak from our building. They have been at this since seven o’clock this morning.

Of course it’s from our building.

They apparently haven’t found it yet, and that’s quite a hole in the road. Any thoughts of sleeping peacefully through the weekend may have to be put on hold.

Meanwhile, we’re finally getting a new oven next week at some point — so we’re told. A whole new oven — no new door, no new hinges. A full oven.

We’ll believe it when we see it!

EDITED TO ADD: Not ten minutes after this post went up, we heard a loud and ominous clank from outside. The engine of the little CAT turned off, and we heard a hand pick clink, clink, clinking… and then …a chain saw? Off to bed, we stopped by the kitchen to turn out the lights, and to get that one last drink… to find that the water was off.

*sigh*

Of COURSE the leak is in our building.

– D & T

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