The Good Wife

Somehow this translation of Bible stories into the Shetland dialect touches me in a way that the original King James VI bible doesn't.

As read, I can hear in my head the Shetland tongue with its distinctive lyrical sounds and Scandinavian words. It is a language of sagas and storytellers.

I'm a little in love at the moment with all things Shetland, but to those natives living there, I will always be a "Sooth Moother', and will forever be an outsider; and the same name is applied to me in Orkney too.

His Lordship and I are on the move yet again later today; this time to Royal Deeside, to Ballater, to stay with his cousin in Craigendarroch,

Having just come back from the Northlands, his Lordship has been heard to say that we could be candidates to join the travelling people.
He is a man happy to stay at home with his daily routine, while I enjoy the diversity of life in other places, while treasuring life at base camp too.

No doubt there will be a time when he declares enough is enough, and I will have to travel solo if this nomadic spirit continues.

But we will have a great time in Ballater, much chatting and eating with hopefully a little exercise thrown in.
We might even bump into an HRH shopping in the village, but I shan't kowtow, after all 'the rank is but the guinea stamp, the man's the gowd for a' that'.

Apparently although it's freezing up in that airt, there is no snow at the moment, so we should get out and about: no bicycles this year, the prospect of a fall on an icy back road fills my shoulder with horror.

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