Dwang Noo Sark Efter

Construction of the replacement big turret is proceeding apace in the Great Hall. The dwangs, or horizontal cross braces between the vertical struts, are now in position.

I asked Gregor if it made more sense to fit the dwangs once the skeleton of the turret had been reconstructed outside i.e. less to dismantle. However, he indicated that fitting the dwangs is a footerie, time-consuming process, so he would prefer to do it indoors.

However, Gregor stopped at installing the sarking, or external sheeting, indoors, even though it has been cut, because being a surface layer it only has to join up with itself and so is less troublesome to fit outdoors.

Anyhow, the turret will be marked-up (tab A into slot B) and dismantled tomorrow into IKEA flat-pack format. Hence the timely photo below, recording this key stage of the construction process.

with dwangs but without sarking

Keen students of the Scots dialect will observe that the title of this blog entry is fully Scottish.

Sarking is legally required in Scotland but not in England. I got quite a surprise when I climbed into my first English loft, and was appalled by the flimsiness of construction. The tiles were nailed onto thin batons instead of being laid onto an entire and complete wood-sheeted surface.

English readers will be more familiar with the term "noggin" rather than "dwang". And finally: I manage to secrete another Scottish dialectal word into the text above. What is it?

Terminator Pheasant

 

There is distinct loss of status in admitting that one has been held hostage at home by a marauding pheasant. But as ever in the world of Balintore, the unbelievable is the reality.

I decided, rather late in the afternoon, to set off on my daily walk. As I descended the steps at the front door of the castle, a pheasant ran at me from around 50 yards away stopping right in front of me. If I stepped down to ground level, there was no doubt it would attack. Shouting and waving my arms had no effect. It simply was not going to leave. Even as I attempted go sideways, first to the left and then to the right, it continually blocked my path.

It was check-mate, and I retreated indoors incredulous that my walk had been aborted even before it had begun by a  bird. I would simply try again later in the day, but darkness fell and the walk never took place.

The next day, thank goodness, there was no sign of the pheasant. However, 100 yards into my walk, the pheasant ran right up to me. I tried to go forward but it continued the menacing behaviour. I felt in great danger from its claws and beak.

There was no escape, as I tried to leave the path at a 90 degree angle it would run to block my exit, parading backwards and forwards in front of me with its chest puffed up.

I was looking for something to defend myself with, and after what seemed like an eternity, I located a longish stick. As the bird came in to attack, I held it at bay with the end of the stick. However, it came at me from different angles and I had to wield the stick like an epee, to stop it coming too close. I was not sure I could keep this up. I continued down the drive, but the pheasant gave no slack, mirroring my every move. The fear and adrenaline had kicked in, and the stick was becoming less and less effective as the bird became bolder

I really did not want to hit the pheasant with the stick - well it was more of a twig actually. Eventually, I had to swipe the stick with a degree of force to keep the bird away. It looked a little surprised but continued to come in for the kill, like the terminator on a relentless mission. My stick had disturbed the bird's feathers so it looked rather bedraggled on that side.

It was locked in mortal combat with me all the way down the castle drive - this is 1km long! Why was it not giving up? It then continued its attack along the road which goes past the castle, still homing in on its target, and it was only when I got past Balintore House that the distance between us increased and it disengaged.

I knew I could not cope with this every day, and wrote a letter of complaint in my head to the local estate during the remainder of the walk. Given that they had stocked the grounds with this evil creature, it was their responsibility to deal with it.

The following day, I spotted some bread on the stone walls either side of the front door, so asked friend of Balintore Simon who was working at the castle, what this was all about. "I'm feeding the pheasant." he said, "It's really friendly!". I lost it at that stage and exclaimed rather too forcefully "Don't feed that creature!".

Anyhow, thankfully I have not had an unpleasant pheasant encounter again, but have spotted several pheasants who turn their evil eye towards me during my daily walk. I am of course maintaining eye contact and wondering "Is that him, and will he attack again?".

When male pheasants fight, they are so engrossed that they are oblivious to everything else. I recall a pair fighting on the castle drive. I had to stop my car, and I knew if I had not stopped I would simply have run both of them over.

Obviously, the pheasant was in this attack mode with me, and nothing would have deterred it. I suspect even if I had hit it really hard with the stick, it would not have stopped. Was it the yellow coat I was wearing i.e. a bit of a orangey pheasant colour? The only other explanation was that it was trying to mate with me, but I do not think his intentions were amorous. Some years back, a Spanish visitor to Balintore Castle got attacked by a pheasant a number of times. It was pretty serious. She was wearing a red jumper.

To capture the essence of something, one often plays the three words game. For a pheasant, these are beautiful, stupid and er, delicious. :-) They truly are the stupidest creatures and have the least road awareness of all: less than a baby bunny - and that is saying a lot. :-)

Amazingly enough, sheep though classically stupid, have pretty good road sense. They are not great at getting out of your way in the best direction, but they do at least try to get out of the way. Pheasants virtually stand in the middle of the single track roads round the castle saying "kill me now".

The "pheasant as terminator" illustration was the best I could do with an AI image generation engine (fodor.com) before my free trial ran out.