One phrase I used often myself was "auld claes and parritch." After a period of celebration or merriment is over, then it's back to auld claes and parritch, or old clothes and porridge.
Labor Day marks the unofficial end to summer here in America. The last schools start back up this week and the church season is gearing up for a busy program year. I put my white heels away yesterday knowing I wouldn't see them again until next spring.
Today's gray and rainy weather especially makes me think of Scotland, as it always does. So, I share this poem for you to read as summer turns to fall and as the busy-ness of life resumes. The Scots have a unique way of describing melancholy subjects so beautifully. I hope you enjoy!
Parritch and Auld Claes
By Walter Wingate
From Douglas to Ardrossan light
The churning screw repeats the tune;
From London in the deeps of night
The engine sings it to the moon;
The paddle beating from Dunoon
In every ear the music plays -
The requiem of honeymoon,
"Parritch and auld claes."
The mist obscures them from our sight;
The mist may never rise again;
But who would live for mere delight?
We are not butterflies, but men.
With hand and brain, with spade and pen
The monument of toil we raise;
A draught of summer wine - and then
"Parritch and auld claes."
Farewell to stream and shore and height,
The flowery glen, the ferny fall;
The moonlit waters, silver white,
The sand’s al fresco concert hall;
We hear afar a sterner call
And bravely with the stoic phrase
We epitaph them one and all -
"Parritch and auld claes."
From Scottish Poetry Selection