Musings from Millport

Yeeeehaaaa, howdy partners!! Yes, that time of year has rolled by again. The time when four thousand happy cowboys and cowgirls, and a few Indians( Native Americans, I mean, not to be confused with the forthcoming influx of Indians for the renaming of Wee Cumbrae..yes, it is confusing, I agree..) descend on Millport and make it their own. All the shops and bars put false frontages up so it really does look like the Wild, Wild West. (Well, if it wasn’t raining.)
The general consensus of opinion in our family is that this year was a little quieter than usual -Perfect Daughter, her band of Cowboys and Indians, and Big Man were all in attendance. Maybe it was the fairly dreadful weather, but there wasn’t quite the throng either watching the parade or walking around the streets that there has been in previous years. This rather surprised me, as I had had numerous enquiries for renting the flat- almost one a week since the beginning of the summer. I would be the last one to generalise, but middle aged Glaswegian ladies in groups of five or more, often called Margaret or Pearl, seemed to determined to get down to Millport and give it laldy. Obviously the prospect of some serious line dancin’, some drinkin’ and maybe a wee bit winchin’ was too good to miss. I ended up putting a notice on my website that I had no availability left for the weekend, but it made no difference.
Perfect Daughter and her pal Gemma had gone down on the Thursday to enable Gemma to really experience the many, many activities there are to do , before the invasion of the cowboys. They were made most welcome by the locals , kindly introduced by Margaret Hughes(thank you Margaret, told you you’d get a mention…) and enjoyed a days cycling and visiting the Ritz cafe before the rest of their gang arrived over the next few days.
The rest of the weekend is a bit of a blur, reports Perfect Daughter, but I have some pretty photos for you to admire.

I actually thought this story was a bit of idle gossip when I first heard it, so I didn’t blog about it. Turns out it’s all true, folks, Wee Cumbrae is to be renamed Peace Island, and 400 Indians are to descend on Big Cumbrae during the Illuminations Weekend.
Illuminations weekend is somehow quintessentially Scottish consisting, as it does, of all the shops and a fair few houses putting lights, displays, candles, photos etc in their windows, sometimes with a loose theme- sometimes not. Then there’s a firework display.
Somehow I hope the influx of another culture will work OK and the visitors will be as enchanted by the home made illuminations as everybody else.. I also hope that they use the cafes and shops, but the word on the street is that they are strict veggies and will not be partaking of any rolls and sausage in the Ritz.
The actual renaming of the island seems very bizzare- a case of life imitating art, considering my attempt to get it renamed Cardy.
Perhaps I should shake off my second best Ermine, and row over and introduce myself?!

Only delayed by a week, due to the fairly relentless rain, the scaffolding at the George St flat has been erected. I was on hand with my camera to record this momentous scene. Andy from upstairs ensured that the scaffolders were well fed by preparing a huge mound of rolls and sausage- surely the feed of the gods!- and serving them up in the garden. Even the clients at the centre across the road, which caters for adults with learning difficulties, got involved by directing the traffic past the scaffolding lorry.
It was all very exciting.
Inside the flat all the wallpaper is off, and we have had a …ooh, what is the collective noun for workmen? A traipse? A grimace? A clutch?? Anyway, lots of them have come in, looked at the damp and deathtrap electrical wiring and mentioned sums of money that seem more like ransom amounts than reasonable quotes to do the work.
The bad news is that after months of wallpaper stripping, it would appear that most of the plaster will have to be hacked off, on account of the damp, you see.
The good news is that once that’s done, we will have lovely ,dry, smooth new plastered walls.
The electrician has been, and knows a plumber- hurrah!- so really, it’s all moving along nicely , if still requiring lots of dosh to be spent.
Although my wallpaper stripping seems to have been a bit pointless, it has uncovered the original stencilling in the hall, almost intact on one side. apparently, painters and decorators carried a limited number of stencils, so whole tenements often boasted the same pattern and colour ways on their interior walls.
I’m not sure what Bob the beetle, who lives in the bathroom, will make of all the upheaval. He likes to hang about the shower tray, and despite Big Man evicting him several times, he has returned, often bringing his larger, more excitable, big brother, Bruce, with him.
Photos? well, I have none of Bob and Bruce, but here are some of the flat. What ? you thought this blog was going to be about something quite different? What do you mean?

I thoroughly enjoyed my week and a bit in Millport. The weather was fine, we lazed around, two of the three kids came down for a bit..As I am an earlier riser than either Big Man or Wee Man, it became my habit to amble down to the newsagents, pick up a copy of the Glasgow Herald, and read it as I quaffed my morning cuppa or three on the sitooterie.
Imagine my horror as I scanned the headlines, to see that Little Cumbrae has been sold. I hastily rushed to my biscuit tin aka my “Island Getaway Fund”. All that was in it was £2.64, a euro, a note from Lanky Boy promising to pay the £5 he’d “borrowed “from it, and a button. I was mildly cheered by the find of the button- it’s from my Boden trousers, and they don’t sit quite as well without the button on the waistband… but I digress. The deed has been done, we are too late, and Stromness Dragon’s vision of a Brave New World has bit the dust.
The island has been sold apparently to a family to own a chain of care homes, which made me wonder what their plans for Wee Cumbrae could be.. and also whether their could perhaps be a place for me there after all… but apparently they plan to discuss things with the inhabitants of Great Cumbrae to see how freer access to the island could be facilitated. For many years, you have been able to take a boat trip round the island but not land on it, as it’s private property.
Well, I thought, that’s all very good ,but I sense that I should perhaps abdicate as Queen of Cardy/Cumbrae . I can hardly preside over an island that someone else owns.
So, dear readers, it is with a heavy heart that I hang up my second best ermine. I hand over my sceptre, remove my crown with hands trembling with emotion…
Goodbye my loyal subjects.
Goodbye.

While I have been slaving away at work, entertaining a bunch of overheated, dehydrated, irritable three year olds, Big Man has been living the life of Reilly. As a college employee, he of course enjoys the full six weeks of holidays. As the end of term drew closer, he became unbearably chipper, announcing he was away to iron his shorts and go out to play. I became more morose, as the beginning of the summer holidays heralds our busiest period of the year, and no possibility of a bit of a skive.
As we were clearly at odds, Big Man set off to be smug and annoying in Millport. He ushered the next lot of renters in, and then turned his attentions to George St.
I became mildly alarmed after a few days as every phone call he made home seemed to hint at more walls knocked down, more cupboards dismantled and more carpets ripped up. He had been to see the chap upstairs to discuss the communal renovations needed to the outside of the building, got several phone numbers of other residents, and discussed what impact these outstanding repairs would have on the flat for sale upstairs with the estate agents.He had drawn up at least another three sets of possible plans for the layout of the interior.
So all good work, although not exactly designed to make the flat more habitable… in fact rather the reverse..
Meanwhile, I sweated and grumbled my way through the week at work, feeling very hard done by. it was far too hot to work. and far too hot to do anything even when I got home. Even pulling the hoover out of the cupboard brought me out in a light sweat, let alone actually hoovering ,for goodness sake.
Finally on Wednesday, Big Man told me that he had run out of clean underwear and socks several days prior (which was more information than you needed, wasn’t it?) and had made the flat so inhospitable that he was coming home.I was very glad to see him, as I really prefer to make full eye contact as I tell my loved ones how very hard my day has been.
After a brief two day visit ,he has set off again ,armed with a bag full of clean underwear, to see the next weeks renters in and attack George St with renewed vigour.
I decided, as I saw him off, that I quite like a marriage where we inhabit different houses some of the time. There is the inevitable.. er.. honeymoon period on his return , if you get my drift, and two days was enough time for him to do some Hoovering where I had failed. Now ,however, I can anticipate a pleasant night watching telly with no interruptions, a peaceful night with no snoring, and the kitchen staying relatively tidy without Big Man’s midnight snacks.
The only thing I will miss out on is breakfast in bed, unless I can train the kitties to balance a teatray on their heads..
I’m working on it
A last footnote to my post on search terms. I was really impressed and amazed to see a search for :
“harryd Canada” amongst the usual “Millport” stuff on my Crawford St blog.
You made it ,Darling- you’re finally famous!

Hello, my fellow bloggers, I thought I would follow Les’ s example and share with you some of the Google search terms that have led people to my Crawford St site, some fairly obvious, some ..well.. less so.
For example. ” Millport”- yes, well that would reasonably lead you to my site and hopefully be a useful read.
“Holidays in Millport” yup, again fairly self explanatory.
However I am mildly affronted that “Rabbit Hutches In Ardrossan ” led some hapless soul to my site- I know the flat isn’t exactly huge ,but still!…
Some searches are clearly looking for information on the vast(ish) range of activities to be had on the island so ;
“Seals in Millport”
Restaurants in Millport”
“shopping in Millport” are all sensible.
My favourite though on this subject would have to be the plaintive query
“Is there anything to do in Millport?”
I like to imagine this last one to be a miserable teen, faced with the prospect of a week’s holiday with Mum and Dad, with no possible access to Bebo, Facebook, or indeed any internet access at all. Wait till they realise that the mobile phone signal isn’t too brilliant either, they will be happy campers..
I liked the search on “armed police in Millport”, as this led me to the story of the Crawford St man who had to be rescued from the hills by helicopter after rashly promising to fire a gun..which he didn’t have..police dryly reported the incident as being the result of “too much sun and a lot of alcohol”. Too much sun?? In Millport???
“Does the ferry get busy in the summer” asked one intrepid traveller- yes indeedy , arrive early and be prepared to queue.
“Banks on Cumbrae” -hmmmnn, well there is one, but if you were intending to rob it, you would need to come on a Monday, Wednesday or Friday morning, as it’s not open other times. I suppose you could wait around outside till it did open, with your sawn off shotgun and stockingette mask..
Clearly some people are looking for my blog itself, but have forgotten it’s name. This has led to some wild approximations-
“Millport Blog”
“Island hopping blog”(eh?)
“Crawford Blog”
“Cumbrae St blog”
And (rather insultingly) “Crawford St woman”. Charming. I do hope I’m what they were looking for.

some photos I took with Perfect Daughter’s camera, during the recent hot spell…. ah, halcyon days. Where’s the flaming good summer we were promised?>

well, no not really, but everybody and his maiden aunty seem to be heading for Millport this summer! I’ve had lots of enquiries, and consequently spent a good bit of time answering emails, sending out maps and receipts, organising renters in and out of the flat… and loving it!
That plus the delights of George St is going to be keeping me really busy over the next wee while, so I’m going to struggle to keep my usual level of blogs and comments going.I know!! It’s OK!! I will be back but if you want to know what’s going on in George St pop over to my other site. I can’t keep two going just now, Superwoman though I am! I’ll try and post between the two over the summer.
Hasta La Vista, baby!

Although nobody has actually accused Big Man of being involved in this incident, I just feel I should point out that it wisnae him. Honest. And that Crawford St is generally quiet and trouble free…

A quickie blog tonight- we got the keys to George St on Friday so it’s busy times.
However just in case you wondered where the teacosy had got to -go on! you were so wondering that very thing!- Mr fourex has very kindly set up a blog ENTIRELY devoted to the tea cosy and it’s wanderlust. Go on Gravirlife. You know you’re a wee bit curious,hmnnn??
the tea cosy blog is a thing of wonderment, excitement and superb photos of the cosy in all it’s glory. Go look. A bit of silliness is good for the soul.