"Ke garne" or "What to do" about the stick in the Muds?

 "Ke garne" was one of the most useful expressions I learnt in Nepali it can be used to express anything from "what to do" (the literal meaning) usually accompanied by a shoulder shrug to "You are trying to pull a fast one here mate!' depending on tone and inflection.

I mused on a time line the main problem with those over 60 who can not see past the "UK's glorious Union is best for Scotland" trope is they have been brain washed by over 50 plus years of little Scotland is reliant on the generous UK, being pumped out daily on radio, television and their daily papers. As usual there were one or two oldies (like me) who rushed to defend independence voting seniors, having missed the point about the group I was actually referring to.

Imagine how it feels like to wake up one day in your mid 70's and have the thought; I been sold a lie all my life by Westminster and the British Establishment. To then have to throw away all the decades of "UK Union is good" you have read in your daily newspaper or listened to on the trusted BBC News, over that time. Basically you have to ditch all you have politically believed in all your life. The easy option is to go into denial and argue to yourself it is too late to change horses now and blank any conversations you have which nag at the realisation you have been lied to and maybe Scotland can be a prosperous, independent country. So you talk about "What currency will we use?" and "What will we do without the "Bank of England" as a lender of last resort?" To which I ask, "How has every other country which gained its independence from England managed?"

After a pause, there is always the replying, "Aah, but .."

Those with the hardest problem to deal with on the day they wake up to having been lied to all their life, are those who wrap themselves in the "Good Queen Lizzy / Union Flag" myth. A bit of a generality but I am imagining those of a "Blue Nose or Orange Order" persuasion. Imagine what an impact waking up to the realisation this has on their psyche. They are well down the anger route in the first place as their only resort. So they talk about "Krankie" or "Nippy Sweetie" and how she is personally going to kick their "Queen" out of Scotland. These folk are well past denial and are moving from anger to hatred as their precious 'Union Fleg" is under threat. They claim the SNP have given into the "Catholics / Celtic" to destroy their "heritage" and right to walk on behalf of a long dead Dutch King, who was supported by the Catholic Church against James the 7th, and lead an army of Catholics and Protestants to drive James and his French Allies out of Ireland. When this is pointed out to them as the historical reality, they rush straight past " Aah, but..." for anger and hatred.

When we are looking at those who are over sixty and "No to independence" voting, in the run up to the next referendum, these are the two groups we are actually left trying to address.

The "anger and hate" group are not worth any effort at all, in my opinion, simply because they are so far down the road of obsession against all things related to independence to the point of apoplexy.

The "denial" group are also a problem but one where there is a potential to reason with them and irritate their little doubts about the UK Union as a "good thing" in the hopes they will admit to themselves the better future is independence for Scotland. This is not an easy sell by any means, haranguing will not work, it has to be the "much soft rain wears the marble" approach. This is, in turn, time consuming and runs the risk the marble will not wear fast enough over the next year or so to make a real difference.

In the end, the actual answer to all the problems of these two groups present is "mortality" and the actuarial reality the haters will die off faster than the deniers.

The only question remaining then is, will "Mother Nature" help out fast enough?

Barr Hill Wood

The noontide warmth snickers in an aboot thon trees

Ma wee dug snuffles arount the bracken

Nay gien a jot tae scunnered flies he pits in the air

Ir thir knackered buzzin birls doon tae anither brack.

The silence fair dunts the lugs

Whilst o'er bye a wee bird gies a helf herted cheep

Tae jildy a dunnock oot the wae

Afore the dug gies a loup an has them awa'.

Anent the forrest's edge

Ae coo, moo's a lament tae bein jagget

By a clegg ir some ither beastie.

We saunter on; the dug an me.

Him aye hopefu some wee moosie I'll pop up

Saes he can shou whit a ratter he is.

Nothin daen, pal, e'en a wee moosie

Cannae thole thon heat.

The sun kenspekles the grun

The dug sticks his neb dooon aa the holes

In hopes a wee moup 'ill came bye.

Bit the Noontide sun's pit a dwam tae thon.

As we daunder the woods, aa alane.