2.0i

Well! Finally finished, an’ wha’ a lang strange journey it hae been! Eh!. I’m glad I did it. I wanted to learn wha’ a’ the fuss was a’ aboot. I can see some usefu’ness in communicating wi’ a’ owr customers aboot programs, new items in the collection an’ a’ tha’. It would have been mair pleasant had some of the thingys worked as expected. I had the most frustrations with the RSS feedies an’ the MOLDIes. I guess ye cauld say I wa’ 2.P0ed! Which brings tae mind my dear auld Granda. I’ve mentioned him before an’ his fondness for a drap o’ the stuff. He could be found most of an e’enin at the local pub. In he would come wi, “Hey Jimmy! A pint o’yer best bitters!”. A’ the pubmen in Glasgow are called “Jimmy”. Then he’d set wi’ his cronnies crackin’ tales or playing darts. “Oh! My glass is dry!” and up frae anither. But when he cames back the games o’er or the stories finished an’ Granda’s missed the ending. Weel! Grandas’ nae fool. “I’ve twa muckle hauns an’ a right steady gait. I can bring twa glasses and ne’r spill a drap!”, says he. Besides, think how economical it will be not wasting a’ tha’ time walking back an forth. So its’ “Hey Jimmy. Twa glasses if ye please.” “Twa?” says Jimmy. “Oh aye” replies Granda. An’ so it went a’ nicht, ‘til it got tae be a regular thing. The next e’enin in cam’s Granda and Jimmy speaks Up. “ Twa pints?” “Oh, aye!”, says Granda. An sae t’was e’er after. “Twa pints?” ”Oh, aye” – “Twa pints?” ”Oh, aye” --“Twa pints?” ”Oh, aye”
D’ye ken?

Moldi oldies!

I tried the MOLDI connection and searched through their collections. Found several copies of my favorites RLS titles and a few videos (non fiction) that looked interesting. Was successful in checking them out, but when it came time to listen or view them.........nothing! It seems that most of them don't work on our Library computers! Heidi was very helpful with this predicament and suggested trying an MP3 version or just opening them at home. I

have yet to revisit them, but will give it a try.

All this reminds me of hearing the tales of great great uncle Archibald. He was known throughout the land as a devout miser. He wouldna’ spend a penny he didna’ need tae. He was the one who stood alain in the breach on Culloden moor as the Hielanders fell on either side. S‘truth they fell, but t’was from the reek. The man never bathed. Talk about moldy! Hoots Toots! When asked why he never used sic’a thing as soap, Archey answered, “I’d hae tae purchase it! An’ wha’ guds soap wi’out water and a basin tae put it in an’ a gud brush tae scrub wi’? Eh! There’s nae end tae the spendin’ when aince ye trot down that path.” By his own logic he saved all tha’ sil’er by gaing wi’out. It saved his life at Culloden for naebody would cam’ close eno’ tae strike’im. Archibald earned his livin’ as a piper, which was a wee bit risky after th’ ’45. The British so’diers were decorating a’ the trees w’pipers, but aince agin, Archies personal hygiene saved his neck. Nae’body wanted him hangin’ aboot th’ place. He was also vera’ near sighted, but as ye can guess, refused tae purchase ony specktaecles. It proved tae be his doun’ fa’. One day a wee lass gied him a wink and asked him tae cam’wi’her tae’ pipe in her village. She hinted there might be a bit o’ usquabae for him as well. Arch could ner’ resist the lassies an' was owr-fond o’ a bit o’ usquabae - sae af’ they gaes. Up spakes the lass, “Oh’ here’s the tricky bit! Let me tak’ yer pipes an’ lead ye’ across th’ burn.“ Oh, but she wa’ paukie! Her wee messin drapped a banna peel under Archies foot an’he slip’et in the burn an’ drowned! The lassie sold the pipes fra’ a gud’ bit o’sil'er, bagpipes being quite scarce a’tha’ time. Ah, weel! At least Archie finally got his bath!

Casting the first pod.......

I decided to explore all the pod-directories, but only had much success with podfeed.net. I was looking for bagpipe related poddies, no surprises there! Had quite a bit of trouble locating the RSS feeds (which brought back a lot of bad memories from and earlier thingy) . The only one which actually worked was a musical pod (Celtic music of course) which I have been able to listen to much to my coworkers delight. I can see how these pods might be useful to inform patrons on library services, but my mind always slips towards the arcane. All this talk of pods reminds me of that great auld motion picture” Invasion of the Body Snatchers”!! Wha’ a great flick! I especially liked the ending where our hero hears of all things “Amazing Grace” being played on the bagpipes! It’s nice to see someone happy tae hear bagpipes. “We’re saved” says he, “It must be the Black Watch cam’ tae rescue us frae a’ these vegetarians “ . Well………..no, not exactly. It’s just a fresh batch of pods, an’ ain’ has yer’ name on it! Sweet dreams

EtTube, Brute'????

I found the YouTube experience to be quite entertaining. I have used it in the past to find examples of tunes being played on the bagpipes. This time I was searching for information on haggis hunting techniques. There were quite a few clips of people running through the heather chasing the pur’ buggers aboot. This method exhibits vera pur’ technique, to say the least! Nae a haggis were ever captured. It’s stealth and cunning that does the trick! There was a wonnerfu’ an’ exceptionally rare shot of an actual haggis snagging! Tak' a squint at this! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lP7dKQQRTFs Wha’ a fine specimen it is tho'. Look at the color of it’s coat. Tis' Grand!
I was also vera’ surprised tae see a wee viddee of ma third cousin on my sister’s aunties side in the Yahoo viddies. His name is Brutus Wilkes Booth MacLeod. His Da was a Shakespearian actor in Glasgow. Brutus is quite the practical joker, on’y just a wee bit short on common sense an' a far sight mair on gud taste. He vidy’oed hi’sel’ climbing a ladder while wearing his kilt, an gied ever'ain an eyefu'. Maggie Cameron was the last person he tricked into holding the ladder. She was so upsetted she yanked the ladder awa' an' left Brutus dangling in the tree tops. He drapped doon expecting his kilt tae act lik' a parachute, which it didnae', an' he braked both his pegs. When the doctor removed the camera from where Miss Cameron had stowed it, all the parts of her in the viddey were gone. Ah weel! at least we hae some pictures of Brutus when he caud still smile! http://video.search.yahoo.com/video/play?p=kilt+ladder&ei=UTF-8&fr=yfp-t-809&tnr=21&vid=000170978671

Tool Time!

I puttered around the old PowerTool box and signed up for a G(golly)email account. Mair things to check. I thought this was makin’ my life easier! I like power tools, hand tools too. Do a bit o’wood working when I can spare the time fra’ a’this typing and Twittering an’ sich. I especialy like to make Stickley styled furniture. I bought up a load of unused oak library book shelves at one time and have made several nice pieces of furniture. The last was a Morris chair based on a Gustave Stickley design. I have even dreamed aboot making bagpipes. I was doing some research on this an’ talkin’ wi’ some pipemakers and they let me in on a wee secret. Bagpipes are not made! They are GROWN!!! “Hoot toots, "says I," tha, canna’ be!” “Oh, aye”, says them an’ tae prove it they gi'ed me a wee bagpipe seed (for a mickel sma’ investment, but I think t’was worth it). “Tak’ this home an’ bury it in the grou’n on a moonless nicht and water it every other day fra’ a month” says they “and soon ye will have’ yer ain bagpipe tree!!! “ Here is a photo of the wee seedy (actual size an' a bit bigger for detail). The moon’s fu’ now sae I’ll have tae wait a bit. Man, man am I exciteded.

Oh! An' Another Thing....

I was experimenting with some of the genealogy tools. Scots are great ones for their genealogy. There is a great scene in “Kidnapped” where Davie Balfour meets Robin Oig-son of Rob Roy MacGregor . David mentions that he does not know much about his family and Robin utters something touching aboot his being "only some kinless loon that didn't know his own father." Robin is quite the one for words, eh! Anyway, I tried “My Heritage”, “Geni”, and “Amiglia”. One I couldn’t get into, but “I’ve got a grand memory for forgettin’ ” sae I canna tell ye which it’twas. The genealogy tools seemed nice but not much help with any of my searches. I can see how they would be great if customers coming in to do research used them and we could look at what they have together. We have worked with some of the other tools in the short list already so I feel that I’ve done my bit here.
All this talkin’ aboot genealogy reminds me of my Gran’da’s cousin Seamus (twice removed on his sisters’ mother’s side). One night he awoke tae an a’fu keening. He was sure it wa’ a frisky haggis crooning for a cuddle. So he tak’ his new Kodak Instamatic camera and went oot tae photograph the wee rascal. It was pit mirk an’ a moonless nicht so he aimed the Kodak at the ruckus an’ clicked the shutter. There was a general scuffle as the creature departed. When the camera spit out the photo, Seamuss realized that he had surprised a Wyckie with a sma’ set o’bagpipes. The photo is a bit fuzzy, like a’ the other famous pictures of Big Foot and Scotland’s own Nessie! So it must be the genuine article. An’ noo' it’s on the internet so it must be true!

Somebody call a Google Doc(tor)!

While working with Google Docs my computer suddenly went on a spree! Absolutetively no response. I'm not sure if I lost anything except my peace of mind. I need a bit of culture to cheer me up, so lets visit with A. E. Houseman again!!!

Is My Team Plowing

Is my team plowing,
That I was used to drive
And hear the harness jingle
When I was man alive?"
Ay, the horses trample,
The harness jingles now;
No change though you lie under
The land you used to plow.
"Is football playing
Along the river shore,
With lads to chase the leather,
Now I stand up no more?"
Ay, the ball is flying,
The lads play heart and soul;
The goal stands up, the keeper
Stands up to keep the goal.
"Is my girl happy,
That I thought hard to leave,
And has she tired of weeping
As she lies down at eve?"
Ay, she lies down lightly,
She lies not down to weep:
Your girl is well contented.
Be still, my lad, and sleep.
"Is my friend hearty,
Now I am thin and pine,
And has he found to sleep in
A better bed than mine?"
Yes, lad, I lie easy,
I lie as lads would choose;
I cheer a dead man's sweetheart,
Never ask me whose.

Ahhhh!! Thats better. Nothing like a cheery poem.

Finally!!!!

This is finally something that I can actually imagine that I might use. Actually, I have started to use it already. I created a local history program on a local Columbus area family over the last couple of years. Many of the documents are in different formats, different programs and created on different computers. When trying to organize and print everything out, many of the results looked like a Russian thesis (or possibly gaelic!). Images were another problem. I have started this process all over again using Googledocs and am still having trouble with some things that even Google does not like. Hopefully sometime soon they will accept everything that I have here. Maybe if they went to some E-diversity training they would be more accepting?

Her's a pretty picture for you too. Put this on your Christmas list with my name by it.

Mair Wykies! in the sand!

I had a sand box when I was a wee laddie. It was a grand place to play. Making castles and things. Always a place of enjoyment and magic. Someone was always leaving me surprises too! buried in the sand.

I remember Grand Da telling me aboot the auld days when he was a wee manny in the glen. They had plenty o’ Wykies then too. Wykies are wee fairy folk. They’re na dangerous or hatefu’ like bogles. They are muckle curious, tho’ an’ their main fault is they canna’ keep a secret. If they over hear a conversation they canna’ help but listen an’ should they be told a secret they fash aboot an’ can’t wait until they can tell it. Usually they will hop on a roaming Haggis an’ gae’ aroun’ the countryside tellin’ everybody they see. They will sneak up on people while they sleep and whisper it into their dreams. Ridding a Haggis is nae’ sae strange as it sounds. They are sma’ gentle creatures similar to a great rabbit, on’y mair sae. Fast as the wind they can run. They are no as common as they aince were. This is on account of their del.ici.ous flavor, which is why they are sought after and cooked up for Burns Banquets an’ sich. Haggis only mate aince a year. The sound of their mating call is quite loud and sounds like someone twisting a cat’s tail. The Heighland folk call it piobaireachd (which is pronounced: pee-brok).

Wykie Wackie

I can see where using a wiki can be a great advantage in any area where communication of information is important. Looking at the examples of book reviews & reading lists; bibliographies; staff manuals; organizing projects – these are great applications. What I don’t think is a good use is for the answering of reference questions – and for the same reason it is valuable for the other areas – anyone can edit it; add to it; and change it. Unlike our magician friend, I do not believe that the collective consciousness makes us all geniuses. Quite the opposite.

Abrakadabra 2.0

I decided to read all of the Web 2.0 articles. The only one that I could even begin to agree with was by Dr. Wendy. She seemed to take a more moderate view of the situation. The others were far too radical in their views for me. I was surprised to find all the writers had basically the same view point until I realized that all the articles came from the same source. (OCLC Newsletter). Also, in a field like computers where the landscape changes oh so quickly, I was disconcerted to see that the articles are almost 2 ½ years old! The tip off was Michael Stephens photo. I could have sworn that he had more gray hairs on his chinny chin chin when he was here recently. I think he has the look of a magician. Put a tux and top hat on his photo! He could do Vegas!
I don’t trust magicians. Do you?

Yum! Yum! Eat'em up! Eat'em up!

I searched around on Del.icio.us for some of my favorite flavors. Found quite a few bookmarks on bagpiping (of course! No surprises there.). Many of the sites I was already familiar with, and have used them quite a bit. I did find a number of new sites though too. It was very interesting to see just what others had to say about the sites. This could prove very useful in evaluating the information, reputability, and usefulness of the sites. Keeps them honest, I daresay!
All in all, I found Del.icio.us quite tasty! Reminds me of my Granny’s haggis. Na! Na! My Ol’ Gran’s haggis was well spoke of in a’ the glen. Every Burns Banquet or Hogmany her haggis could be found in a place of honor. Anyone who knows their haggis kens tha’ a’ guid haggis is muckle hard tae find. An’ there’s pre.cio.us little o’ it tae gay aroun’. O' Aye, Granny Maudie was said to have the roundest, firmest, jucyest haggis in all of Gretna Green...... Hey wha' yer smirkin' at! Ge' yer minds out o' tha' gutter!

Tweet Tweet

I created a Twitter account and looked at quite a few Tweets. It just seemed like the Tweeters didn’t have much to say!

The Tale of the Lost Library!

I am trying to link my Library to this posting. It was not successful on the last go'round. I also tried to add it to my Bloggy site! with no obvious success either! Oh' wait! her it is now!http://www.librarything.com/catalog/pipervern

Nothing like a good Book!

Had a bit more success with creating the Library Catalog. I wish that I owned copies of all these books!

Finally! Here is the promised picture of Great Grandda! He was known for being in his cups! One day he hired a cousin, Fergus, who was an accomplished piper in the croft, to play for a muckle sad occasion. They argle-bargled aboot the price and finally settled on a bottle of Granda's finest single malt. Fergus played "The Flowers of the Forest", which fitted the occasion. When he finished and asked for his pay, Granda handed him a straw and quickley left. You will notice that the picture is in winter and the ground covered with snow. Fergus was na' fool. He scooped up his frozen fortune, picked out the larger pieces of glass and invented Scotch on the Rocks!

Cheers!

A New Pub in Town.

I thought this would be a great sign for a pub. Plenty of Guiness, lots of good music (Scottish & Irish of course). Not a bad idea for retirement!

Fed up with Feeding

I was very frrrrrrrrustrrrrrrrrrrrated with find feeds. I used each of the suggested search tools and had no luck linking anything. I was surprised that each time I was given the message "No feeds found". I assumed that we were searching sites that had feeds? Perhaps I was mistaken! Ah weeel, here's a new an' delightfu' image o' ma' great gandda'. He ne'r could ho'd his whiskey, mar's the pity!
If it was na' fa' bad luck I'd hae nane at a'! The image willna' upload.

RSS message

I have been messing about with this and hopefully having some success. After adding the requisite news feeds I started looking for some fun stuff. Blogs on history, historic costumeing, and lets not forget bagpiping!

Here is another interesting image of a rare Highland fetish. The Scots are a noted supersticious lot. This fetish was used before an upcoming piping competition. It is clad in the Tartan of the rival band and then perforated with a plethora of pointy objects (I find the safety pin to be quite aggressively used). This guarantees that the pipers will be afflicted with more than the usual tuning difficulties, several broken reeds, and leaky bags. The excessive number of pins in this instance will probably cause several hose to fall down and the bass drummer to trip while marching into the competition circle.

Flickr access

I have been exploring the Flickr site and making some Trading cards. I was surprised that it was necessary to take down the filter before gaining access. From what I saw there were no objectionable images and was wondering if we should remove the filter from blocking Flickr. What do you think?

Playing with tradingcards

I tried the Tradingcard function on Flickr and created a rather nice card. Here it is.http://flickr.com/photos/29971269@N03/2811359568/

My first performance

This is a photo of the audience at my first bagpipe recital. My instructor, Hugh MacPherson, is the older gentleman in the middle. I had just missed a D-throw and Hugh was not well pleased.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/rjhamptonjr/2685221677/

A truely horrifying image to any piper, unless these are made in Pakistan.

A. E. Housman (1859–1936). A Shropshire Lad. 1896.

With rue my heart is laden


WITH rue my heart is laden

For golden friends I had,

For many a rose-lipt maiden

And many a lightfoot lad.


By brooks too broad for leaping

The lightfoot boys are laid;

The rose-lipt girls are sleeping

In fields where roses fade.