Charlie Chaplain’s TalesWhen I first started my full- time healthcare chaplaincy post some fourteen years ago, I visited as many of the clients and residents at our then mental-health care facility.
“Hello, I’m Sandy, the new chaplain” I would introduce myself.
On one occasion, the response was “I’m John and I’m a gardener” (with a broad Galloway accent – “gairdner”)
He was interrupted by a fellow female client: “I’m X…. and I’m awff ma heid”
“Wheesht, wumin”, interposed old John, “Ye dinnae ken whit ye’re talking aboot!”
He monopolised the rest of the conversation.
“Ah ken you meenisters; Ah usetae dae gairdenin’ work fur some o’ them at their big posh manses”
“Aye,” he continued, “ye sit oan yer erses a’ afternoon readin’ the ‘Scotsman’ and drinkin’ wheesky”
I hadn’t the heart to contradict him. It was usually a G & T and the “Herald” for me
Sky Pilot 