IN OUR BUSY computer-driven wired world, the internet, e-mail, blue tooth, cell

phones and black berries were supposed to make modern life easier and more

convenient.  But nowadays it seems that these devices increase the pace of life to

a faster tempo than ever.  Despite living in a ‘global village’, in this increasingly

urban society we are also becoming disconnected both from each other and from

the delicate rhythms and seasons of our fragile planet.

OUR HIGHLAND ancestors were far more connected to their community and to the

seasonal cycles of the environment around them. Life was tough.  Survival was a

challenge. Timing was everything.  Life depended on understanding the balances

of nature and knowing the intertwined patterns of the seasons, weather, crops,

livestock and game. A harsh winter or sunless spring meant a bad harvest, famine

and devastation.*  In the rains and mist of ancient Caledonia/Alba, it was no

wonder the Druids venerated the coy sun and marked and observed the four

Albanns, or equinoxes and solstices with alternating desperation or enthusiasm. (Click on Read More below for the whole story)

Today we bring you a bricklayer's accident report that was printed in the newsleter of the English equivalent of the Workers Compensations Board.
 

"Dear Sir:
I am writing in response to your request for additional information on the accident reporting form. I put "poor planning" as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain more fully and I trust that the following details will be sufficient.

I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six-story building. When I completed my work, I discovered that I had about 500 pounds of bricks left over. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley which, fortunately, was attached to the side of the building at the sixth floor. Securing the rope at ground level I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it.
 

Then I went back to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the 500 pounds of bricks. You will note on my accident form that my weight is 135 pounds. Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rather rapid rate up the side of the building. (Click on Read More below for the rest of the story.)

In 1964 the principal chief of the Creek Nation of Oklahoma, who boasted the surname McIntosh, attended the annual gathering of his clan in the Highlands. To everyone’s surprise, he appeared in full Native regalia. The Plains Indian headdress, beaded shirt, and moccasins contrasted sharply with the kilts, sporrans, and dirks. To a bagpipe audience, he explained his pride in his dual Creek-Scottish ancestry.

Alexander Ross remained devoted to his Indian wife, as did Angus McDonald, Donald A. Smith, John McLoughlin, and a number of others who stayed with their Native or mixed-blood women for life. Whichever arrangement prevailed, however, the end result was to produce a number of Scoto-Indians.

The emergence of these Scoto-Indians should not be all that surprising. Historically there were a number of parallels between the American Indians and the Highland and Island world from which the traders usually came. In each case the physical conditions of life, governed by the change of seasons and often perched on the edge of hunger, proved similar. There could not have been much difference between an Isle of Lewis beehive shieling and a Great Plains tipi or a Mandan earthen lodge. (click below on Read More for the whole story)