There are terrible weapons of mass destruction. Nuclear weapons, nerve gas, etc. They present a deterrent to those who may not be our most ardent fans to think carefully about taking us on. In Scotland we have a huge arsenal of such weapons and they take the form of… Scottish Grannies!!!
A Scottish Granny has been carefully groomed and trained over many years. They have achieved a level of knowledge, which makes Stephen Hawking look like a Primary 1 child. They have powers, which allow them to see into the future, and they are experts in nutrition, fashion, politics, sport… in fact you name it and they know all about it.
My Scottish Grannies (obviously you would hope to have two, one each from Mum and Dad at least to start with anyway) came in the favoured small and large packages. One was small and thin and the other was larger and more rotund. Both though were not to be messed with. Their word was law (as it should be of course Gran).
Small Gran had a really sharp tongue. Big Gran was imposing. There was a small amount of fear involved in dealing with them both but thankfully rarely at the same time.
If you are Scottish you’ll be familiar with “you should have a woolly on”, “eat that up it’s good for you, it’ll stick to your ribs” and of course the most devastating of all whilst watching a Scotland V England football match which Scotland are leading, “the English will score soon and we won’t win” and they were always right.
All those years of training by my Grans have left me feeling guilty if I haven’t eaten up everything on my plate. I know I won’t get a dessert (pudding in Granny speak) if I don’t finish up the main course. I never “cast a clout ’till Mey is oot”. I actually thought that meant I wasn’t to reduce the amount of clothes I should wear until May was past until fairly recently. This caused me great puzzlement when scorching days in May made it impossible not to “cast a cloot”! It’s a flower, shrub or plant of some sort. Horticulture is a further area of Granny expertise but only in an advisory role. Green houses, grass and hedge cutting and garden sheds are strictly for Grandads (as some place to hide I’d imagine).
Scottish Grannies can also make tablet, which is similar to the nectar of the Gods but way, way better. They cook Potted Heid (Potted Meat), which disappointingly doesn’t have any actual heads in it. They can mend and alter anything. They don’t knit on a Sunday. They like the wrestling on TVs (Mick McManus was derided and hated and WWE is far too sissy for them). They read the Sunday Post from cover to cover and take the Peoples Friend and The Womans Weekly.
Small Gran was particular unimpressed by Cleo Lane and would promptly change channels on her Bush black and white TV if she came on. I’m pretty sure they never met in person but some slight must have occurred for Small Gran to develop such a loathing.
A dozen Scottish Grannies could sort out Al Qaeda in a morning without resorting to weapons apart form their tongues and fearsome glares. I’m not sure that Al Qaeda would fight as well if they were being fed a Scottish Granny staple diet, they’d have way too much weight to carry and the promise of tablet would be far too distracting for them to plot world domination which they couldn’t achieve anyway since that’s the domain of Scottish Grannies only. I’m trying hard not to think about the AL Qaeda version of Potted heid!
We have been in possession of a fabulous resource for years in the shape of our Scottish Grannies. Maybe now is the time to let them loose upon the world stage? Maybe Gordon Brown should have paid his Granny more heed and actually followed through with her frugality rather than just pretending? Grannies aren’t going to put up with the drivel we suffer from the EU. Global warming and climate change? Grannies always claim that the summers of their childhood were far warmer than they are now, winters far snowier, frost on the pavements for months and no namby pamby salt and gritting. So that’s Global warming laid to rest then.
Last words then from the Scottish Grannies “look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves Gordon and for goodness sake take that jacket off. You won’t know the benefit of it when you go out again”!