A Gala Day

To Galashiels this morning to visit the audiologist. I feel my hearing has deteriorated quite a bit over the last five years, but the tests say it's not that much worse than it was. But technology has advanced - as have prices - so next week I'll be getting new hearing aids, plural now. They will be getting a good work out as we'll have a house-full with the Kingston crew visiting.

Gala is looking up these days - still glowing from the Royal Visit a couple of weeks ago, to open the new home of the Great Tapestry of Scotland.   There's plenty of history, freely available, on the streets. 

I blipped the Gala town crest on some old gateposts. The motto is 'soor plooms,' sour plums in English. There's a story attached, dating from thirteen-canteen, and portraying the Braw Lads in a good light, of course. A more familiar use of the term relates to a boiled sweet, very acidic, and liable to lacerate your tongue if you sooked more than one. 

The folks of Gala must have a sweet tooth. They have erected a statue in the square to one Coulter, a pedlar of candy. We all learned to sing his praises at primary school. It's a miracle that my teeth have survived, better than my ears, at least.