Hap up yer lugs

10th January 2017

(Above) Dreich sna rollin doon the hulls at 700m today aifter sna then rainfall.


(Above) Balls ‘i sna at 860m on the Creag Mhor ridge. Ahm drookit and my beets were dreich aifter it been dingin doon aa day. I was fair foosionless getting aire.


(Above) Fit a bonny gloamin’ owergyan Creag Mhor ridge.


(Above) Fit rare rainbow on the wye hame.


Aye, hap up yer lugs, it’ll be caul in the morn wi sna, an blowin’ a hoolie. Ca canny, or you’ll ging skiting on atap i’ the hulls.

Div ye un’erstn Doric?

If so, a prize for translating this:-

“Ah’ll kittle yer oxters”

(The prize is revealed in the translation and will be administered by the other ‘Mannie’ who’ll be forecasting in the morn.)



Comments on this post

  • Dave Henchliffe
    10th January 2017 6:35 pm

    Ayup, my friend from Dundee says it means “tickle you under the arms”. ???

    • meagaidhadmin
      10th January 2017 7:12 pm

      Foos yer doos?

      Boom! A winner. (Near enough. “Ah’ll kittle yer oxters” translates as I’ll tickle your armpits, apparently.)

      9am. Wednesday. The Creag Meagaidh car park. Ask for the Irishman. He’ll do the honours!

      • meagaidhadmin
        10th January 2017 7:49 pm


        Sure ye’ll be grand and good luck ta ye wi that yin!

        ‘Fraid I’ll be long gone – sure I’ll see ye Post Face

        meagaidhadmin (Irishman)

  • Lauren
    10th January 2017 7:16 pm

    Ahm fair teen by iss blog Tom! Fit an absolute rare!!! X

    • meagaidhadmin
      10th January 2017 7:23 pm

      Are ye a toonser or a teuchter now, Lauren?

      Ah’m fair-tricket you responded (via Megan, ma fair quine)

  • Hugh mcMunro
    13th January 2017 8:24 pm

    30 degrees here in South Africa. Taking great pleasure in recalling winters of old without the fun of “the long winter walk in”. Will be heading N to finish the Munros in the Spring.

    • meagaidhadmin
      13th January 2017 10:46 pm

      30 degress, you say….

      Hugh, I’m imagining you enjoying the warm sun on your back on some beach on The Cape….with warm sand between your toes as you stroll along watching the surf break. Perhaps wandering towards a barbie where some freshly caught sardines have just been cooked to perfection to be washed down with a glass or two of nicely chilled chenin blanc?

      ……and all you can think of are the masochistic and distinctly questionable ‘pleasures’ of Scottish winter mountaineering? Shirley some mistake!

      All goes to show how strong the magnetic pull of the Scottish Highlands is for the Scottish diaspora!

      Thanks for your comment and glad the blog evokes such memories for you.

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