Quines
This is a snap from Horizon Scotland, the Innovation and Incubation Centre in Forres, Moray. When I posted it on Flickr, a long and fasinating discussion ensued on the meaning and roots of the words Quine and Loon - follow it here
The conversation brought to mind a great story from my father - who was 81 on Monday - who was brought up in a Scots speaking family and society in the NE. When he was a toddler, in the winter of 1926/27 he was being pushed around the streets of Aberdeen by his mother, when they met James Scot Skinner, the famous Fiddle Player. This must have been just in the months before his death. My Grandmother knew him slightly and they stopped to make conversation. Now remenber in those days little boys tended to be dressed in Edwardian Sailor suit style, and their hair was left to grew long and curly, until they were 4 or 5.
Scot Skinner peered into the pram, and remarked "My my Mistress Davidson, that's a bonny looking Quine", and was greeted with the shocked reply
"I'm no a quine - I'm a Loon!"
What your granny knew Scott Skinner??? Wow! When I was in school I played the fiddle for years and was well acquaint with quite a few of his tunes. Imagine meeting him ..!
Posted by
Croila |
10:38 PM
Also used to live in Aberdeen for a few years so was well used to getting called "quine" :-)
Posted by
Croila |
10:38 PM
To say that my Granny knew Scott Skinner is probably an overstatement. They were neighbours, but on speaking terms.....
Posted by
Calum |
9:29 PM