Whit Wey Dae A Wint Tae Lairn Scots?

Strecht awa frae A first came forenent Scots, A winted to git tae ken it. A wis richt ferliet bi hit. A kent immedentlie at thir wis something kin tae masel, at thir wis a tungue at wis kin til mine ain. A hae aagates haen a muckle luve o Inglis, an i Scots A finn something A canna bit luve forby. A wint tae ken whit fowk is sayin an writin in hit.

Forby, wi Scots bein an Anglic leid, an bein the gaird an heir o the Anglo-Saxon wurd-hoard, muckle mair nor Inglis is the day, Scots is a gate fur tae git in titch wi the spring-heid common til baith Scots an Inglis. Scots is whaur sae mony o the hamelt wurds at is mine ain heirskip, as weill as Scots fowk's - an ilka bodie's at spaeks an Anglic leid - is keepit an proteckit - wurds at Inglis haes tyned, an at is leevin yit in the Scots mou.

Mairatowre, it gies me gey muckle pleisur tae look on the differin oncomes o the Auld Inglis tungue efter thae mony hunneryears. I Scots A fin something sae sib, an whyles sae ootlan, at A kent A juist maun git tae ken hit.

Anither raison at A hae sic a fainness o Scots is at it haes sae lang bin onrichtly doonhauden an negleckit. Scots haes no bin gien its richt regaird, an it haes tyned the heicher poseetion , at it aince an aucht yit haud. Scots wis aince the langage o state an aa! It's no a modren consait o Scots fowk that's juist ettlin tae write hoo thay spaek; it's a gey auld leid, an aathou Scots is maistly a spokken leid the day, at's acause it haes tyned its richtful status an haes bin negleckit fur writin wi tae its ain skaith. Scots is no juist Inglis wi northren slang. It's a richt leid, wi hit's ain grammar, rules, maks an historie.

A'm lairin Scots acause A canna see ony wey o leevin gin A dinna. It drives ma waukin an ma draims, an whan it's no the first thing on ma mind, hit's the seicont. It's for luve A'm daein this wark.

Weet Thuirsday

The day's a draich, weet Thuirsday. The morra'll see the Ware comin ben. Bit the day, the lift's mirk an the cloods is hingin thrang abuin. A ken the sin's heich abuin een thaim, bit it isna giein hus hit's fu meisur the noo.

The grun is saft an fowk's maistly inbye. Outbye's no owre walcomin, ye ken! A bonnie day'll aye hae fowk oot an aboot an gey an blythe an aa, bit thir's no sic a day.

Och, A wiss A yit haen ma auld windae, for tae hae the braw vizzy A aince haed. Hit luiked oot on a bit wuid, wi a wee strin. The noo, ma windae luiks maistly on ugsome thingies, an it gies me nae muckle pleisur.

Bit A dinnae finn the weet sae ugsome an aa. The'r sumhin richt canty aboot hit. An the flours it caas furth, A'll aye caa thaim walcome.

Wunter gien wey til Ware

Hit's a braw Tysday the hinnereyn o the Wunter. Efter ainly twa mair day, the Ware'll stert offeecially, wi her flours in thair blume an aa, an mony beasties skailed aboot the yird, ilkane efter it's ain kinn, an ilka kinn wi its ain wey o daein things. The mirk an cauld o the Wunter s' be bainisht for a twa-three saisons, an the sin sall heave an leam i the lift, an ilka day growe stranger and sheen langer nor the day afore. Whyles, the wun micht bla cauld an we micht wull git a drap or a spate o weet, bit the flours'll be flourishin an the burds'll be whustlin.

Syne, in its ain time, the Ware wull growe intil the Simmer, an the yird sall be het, an the grun birselt in some airts. Een sae, the grun wull ken at it is braw, an it wull gie furth frute an tick. The lift wull be sae bew an bricth at ye wull be mirky tae luek on hit, an tae wauk ablow it.

Bit it is juist noo the Ware's tid tae stert, no the Simmer's, wha wull gie wey til the Hairst in its ain time.

Fur the noo, thou, we'll hae the Ware, wha we tholed the lang, keen Wunter fur. Aathing is guid i the Ware. Aathing is made noo an young aince agane, an thou aathing wull ane day dwine an dee, the leamin sin an the greene leifs is atweill braw.

Bit ye ken aa that, dae ye no? A'm juist scribin aboot it for tae impruive ma skeelies, gin A hae ony skeelies ava yit!

Whit am A daein wrang? Whit am A daein richt? Och, whit am A axin ye fur, ye'r no een hereawa!