海角大神

It鈥檚 impressive how educational hand-drying the dishes can be.

Almost without knowing it, one may absorb a range of more or less useful information as the cutlery gets drier and the dishcloth damper.

I am thinking in particular of two literary dish towels that have insinuated themselves into our collection of domestic accouterments. They are headed 鈥淎 Celebration of the Scots Language.鈥� These informative towels are clearly aimed at me as the Sassenach (or English) half of this house鈥檚 inhabitants. From them one may learn the meaning of such helpful phrases as 鈥渋t鈥檚 a braw bricht moonlicht nicht the nicht鈥� and such singular words as 鈥渇ankle,鈥� 鈥渉oaching,鈥� 鈥渟tramash,鈥� and 鈥渃outhie,鈥� not to mention 鈥渂ourach鈥� and 鈥渂lether.鈥�

I wonder how I got by before I knew any of these expressive Scottish words. I can鈥檛 enter into the scholarly debate as to whether Scottish is a language or a dialect, but living in Scotland I enjoy the words and phrases that have become part of my occasional conversation.

There were two early indications that I had crossed a linguistic line into a different country. The first was in a lumber yard. A man high on an extension ladder suddenly called down, 鈥淗ey Jimmy!鈥� I looked about helpfully for anyone called Jimmy, but then it dawned on me that he was addressing me. I forget why he was calling to me, but I felt oddly honored.

The other occasion involved sheepdogs. I was preparing an article about a farmer who trained sheepdogs. He was explaining how the young ones learn by copying their elders. 鈥淭hey watch 鈥� ken 鈥� as the older dogs work 鈥� ken 鈥� and imitate their actions 鈥� ken.鈥� I wondered why the dogs were all called 鈥淜en.鈥� It was only later that someone explained that 鈥渒en鈥� was short for 鈥淒鈥檡e ken?鈥� 鈥� or 鈥淵ou know?鈥�

My better half now and then employs vernacular Scottish as if it is perfectly natural. She, for instance, introduced me to the word 鈥渙ose.鈥� It is a close relative of a word of similar meaning, 鈥渟toor.鈥� A useful website (piningforthewest.co.uk) explains: 鈥淪toor is dust and general muck, and rhymes with 鈥榮ure.鈥� Oose is dust which is so thick it鈥檚 positively furry.鈥� It rhymes with 鈥渕oose.鈥澛�

Strangely, these two words are not featured on our dish towels, but they do appear in several corners of the internet. An oose variant, 鈥渙osse,鈥� shows up in a favorite lighthearted, wordily inventive book I often refer to. It is by Alastair Reid (a Scot) and illustrated by Ben Shahn. It鈥檚 called 鈥淥unce Dice Trice.鈥� Mr. Reid says: 鈥淥osse is the airy furry stuff that ultimately gathers under beds.... It is also called trilbies, kittens or dust bunnies.鈥�

Oose and stoor seem to me to be unmistakably Scottish, partly because of the sound made when you say them. This is even truer of 鈥渄reich.鈥� (pronounced 鈥渄reech,鈥� with a soft ending). It describes the too frequent state of Scottish weather: misty, gray, drizzly, and bleak.

But not all Scottish words are onomatopoeic. 鈥淏raw,鈥� for instance, already mentioned as a description of moonlight, does not in the least mean raw or rough. On the contrary, it means fine or splendid. And 鈥渃outhie鈥� sounds a bit coarse, but it signifies cozy or comfortable.

We have a French friend who has been in Scotland for many years. He is particularly taken with our two hens. 鈥淗ow are my girls?鈥� he asks on the phone. When he visits he can be overheard having couthie conversations with them. He has carried out numerous repairs to the large netted enclosure in which these characters live. One time he told me what he had been doing and added that the brown hen had been giving him 鈥渓aldie.鈥� Scottish words spoken with a French accent carry a considerable charm. 鈥淟aldie,鈥� in this context, might be taken to mean that the hen was giving him a vigorous telling off. And while we are on the subject of chickens, there is a Scotticism that is fading out, presumably for being politically incorrect. It is an affectionate term used by a man when addressing a woman, as in 鈥淗ow are you doing, hen?鈥� In different parts of the world, equivalents are 鈥渄ear,鈥� 鈥渓ove,鈥� 鈥渉oney,鈥� or even 鈥渄uck.鈥澛�

Which brings me back to the dish towel texts:聽 鈥淔ankle鈥� means a tangle;聽 鈥渉oach颅ing鈥� is overcrowded; 鈥渟tramash鈥� means an uproar; 鈥渂ourach鈥� is a small mound; and 鈥渂lether鈥� 鈥� well, a blether is a person who chatters incessantly, not unlike the author of this essay.

So I鈥檇 better stop. But not without first wishing you a long and healthy life in one of the most amiable Scottish phrases: 鈥淟ang may yer lum reek.鈥�*

*The sentiment is 鈥淢ay you never lack fuel for your fire.鈥� Literally, it鈥檚 鈥淟ong may your chimney smoke.鈥�