This little ode records an encounter with the eponymous Ruby of this piece.
We were on our way to Arran, to “Laggwood Cottage” to visit our son and daughter-in-law.
As we slowly filed off the CalMac Ferry at Brodick we met Ruby.
Unforgettable in her chosen outfit, complemented by her self-assurance.
This young lady will be famous!
Her Mum explained that three-year old Ruby had her very own, very individual fashion sense and could NEVER be persuaded into any clothes that she did not want to wear on any particular day.
I just wish I had a picture to add here.
But perhaps not, it would make this wee ditty redundant!
This is linked to “Dreich Mondays No More” and I will try not to repeat myself.
Edward Casswell is a highly gifted peripatetic singing teacher. At 6’ 8” he is an imposing chap!
He now lives in Cromarty, on the Black Isle, way up there beyond Inverness.
Edward works all over the World, mainly in the West of Scotland at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. Remarkably Edward does not drive!
“The Health and Well-being through Song” classes which he piloted in 2010/2011 still flourish today and led to the creation of the “Morning Choir” referred to in “Dreich Mondays No More!”
Since my first retirement in 2001 I have been a student at Strathclyde University’s “Centre for Learning in Later Life (CLLL)”.
This is a wonderful place, I recommend it to you.
I have tried my hand at many things offered by the CLLL including a pilot course called “Health and Wellbeing through Song” led by the amazing Edward Casswell.
Here is his ode: “Thanks and Farewell to Edward Casswell”.
Did you guess? Yes I love singing! I love the camaraderie of it and the emotion that it generates.
Alan Tavener is the leader of “Capella Nova” and many, many choirs, including our Monday Morning Choir and the Scottish Plainsong Choir.
It is a complete understatement to say merely that he is a talented and inspiring man.
Alan Tavener is a genius! Perhaps as near to an Angel as we might ever meet on this side of the divide.
This Ode celebrates his recent award of becoming an Honorary Associate of the Royal School of Church Music.
It complements a previous piece called “Alan T, Our Man of Song”.
This is nonsense.
But once the Aliens had dropped the seed in my brain, it insisted on writing itself.
Though not a poem, I gave John B. Moronigal the blame.
This tiny piece was written when we realised, suddenly, how much time had flown by since Matthew’s arrival.
It gave John B. Moronigal and outing!