Wedding and windbills

Is the credit crunch going to have an impact on guest numbers at eco-villages? Rhiannon Hanfman reve

Last week I drove my friend Judi Buttner to Loch Ness to officiate at a wedding. Judi is the Findhorn Foundation’s official marriage celebrant and can legally perform weddings not only in the community but anywhere in Scotland. The Foundation has, for at least ten years, had its own celebrant so that community people who do not, as a rule, want a traditional church wedding could have the kind of ceremony they prefer without needing to go the Registrar’s office to formalise it.

She is very busy these days with engagements throughout the Highlands, hence the trip to Lock Ness. More couples and not only those with an alternative outlook want to create individual ceremonies that incorporate words that are meaningful to them. I have been to a number of these events and each one is different and all are moving in their own way. This particular wedding took place on a boat in the middle of the loch in the shadow of Urquhart Castle. It was a very small and informal affair with family only, nevertheless the bridal pair was decked out in full wedding kit. Unusual as the venue was, some conventions do persist.

While waiting for the ceremony to begin I was chatting with a young woman who was one of the crew and learned that the number of visitors to the Inverness area is down on last year by 300 a day. Why, is no mystery. The cost of fuel, the credit squeeze and economic shambles we are in are keeping people away.

As a result of that conversation I was curious as to whether the Foundation was also experiencing low guest numbers. Fortunately, it seems not, or at least not yet. The numbers are pretty much the same as last year. This is good news for us but it would not be unreasonable to suppose that the economic downturn will reduce guest numbers eventually.

I wonder, however, if the reverse may not happen. When times are tough, people begin to question accepted truths like, for example, the superiority of free market economics, and will look for alternatives. An eco-village model such as Findhorn provides alternatives on many levels. The free market is increasingly becoming unsustainable and people may want to look for something that is.

Only yesterday, I spotted an interesting alternative in the front garden of my friends, George Goudsmit and Mary Inglis. There was a large metal object that looked like a cross between a bird and a modern sculpture, turning gently in the wind. George, who runs AES, a solar heating company in Forres, explained to me that it was a wind turbine designed to operate on the roof of an ordinary house. He and his neighbour hope to promote it and had placed it in the garden to see what interest it generated.

It certainly got my attention. Single-dwelling windmills have already been manufactured but some have the unpleasant side effect of making the house shake when they are going flat out. Apparently this turbine does not do that. What it does do is produce about 500w of electricity. The cost is reasonable too. George thinks it could pay for itself within three years. It’s encouraging to learn of a green energy option that doesn’t cost the earth.

It’s a bit of a ramble from weddings to windmills and sustainability. The common theme, if there is one, is change—change of status, change of lifestyle, change in the world. In the community we talk about change as a good thing, generally. The changes afoot in the world at the moment are challenging and it remains to be seen how we meet them, individually and collectively. The thought I am left with is that in the I Ching the hexagram symbolising ‘danger’ is the same as ‘opportunity’.

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A glossary of football’s most hackneyed phrases – and what they mean

This is the time of the season when we all get tired. Time to break out the cliches.

This is the time of the season when we all get tired. The players, poor petals, are exhausted. The refs have had enough of being shouted at. The hot-dog sellers are running out of hot dogs. And the TV commentators, bless ’em, are running out of clichés. So, between now and the end, look out for the following tired old phrases, well-worn adjectives and hackneyed descriptions, and do feel sorry for them. They know not what they are doing.

It will go right to the wire. In the case of the Prem, this isn’t even true. Leicester are as good as there. It is only true of the Championship, where three teams – Burnley, Middlesbrough and Brighton – are on 87 points each, with the fourth team miles away. Now that will go to the wire. The phrase comes from those pre-war reporters in the US who telegraphed their copy. When it didn’t get through, or they’d never filed it, being too lazy or too drunk, they would blame the technology and say, “It’s down to the wire.”

Dead men walking. This is when the pundits decide to hold a seance in the studio, taking advantage of Alan Shearer having sent us all to sleep. It also refers to Pellegrini of Man City and Hiddink of Chelsea. They have known for ages they’re dead parrots, not long for this life, with their successors lined up even while their bodies are still warm. I think a moment of silence is called for. “Dead men walking” refers only to football. Must not be used in connection with other activities, such as media. When someone is sacked on a newspaper, they immediately get sent home on gardening leave, just in case they manage to introduce a spot of subversion into the classified ads, such as: “Five underpants carefully kept; make up; red dungarees; offers considered, Kent.” (The first letters of each word give it away, tee hee.)

World class. The number-one phrase when they can’t think of any other synonyms for what was quite good. As well as goals, you now hear of world-class throw-ins, world-class goal kicks, world-class haircuts
and world-class pies in the press room at half-time, yum yum.

He’s got a hell of a left peg. That’s because he borrowed it from his mam when she was hanging out the washing.

He’s got it in his locker. The fool. Why did he leave his left peg there? No wonder he keeps falling over.

And the sub is stripped off, ready to come on. So it’s naked football now, is it?

Old-fashioned defending. There’s a whole lexicon to describe brutal tackles in which the defender kicks someone up in the air, straight to A&E.

Doing the dirty work/putting himself about/an agricultural tackle/left his calling card. Alternative clichés that every commentator has in his locker for when yet another world-class, manic, nasty, desperate physical assault is committed by a player at Sunderland, Newcastle and Norwich, currently scared shitless about going down and losing their three Bentleys.

Opened up his body. This is when an operation takes place on the field, such as open-heart surgery, to work out whether any Aston Villa player has got one. OK – it is, in fact, one of the weary commentator’s nicer compliments. He can’t actually describe what the striker did, as it was so quick, so clever, and he totally missed it, but he must have done something with his body, surely. Which isn’t even correct, either. You shoot with your feet.

Very much so. This is a period phrase, as popularised by Sir Alf Ramsey. He got it into his head he must talk proper, sound solemn, or at least like a trade union leader of the times, so instead of saying “yes” he would say “very much so”. It’s having a comeback. Listen to Glen Hoddle – I guarantee that between now and the end of the season he’ll say it ten times, whenever someone has interrupted and he wants to get back to the aperçu he was about to share with us.

Most unpredictable Premier season ever. Or so Sky is telling us, on the hour, meaning “since last season”, which was the most unpredictable one since, er, the season before that.

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism