The Lure of Scottish Lore

One of my grandmothers was born in Limekilns, Scotland, in the County of Fife.  She only lived until I was 8 years old, having passed away at the age of 48. Knowing so little of her, or any of my ancestors, in truth, I later became engrossed in studying my family history. Even so, I had my childhood memories of her. She lived in the house at the top of the knoll in Los Feliz in Los Angeles, in a home my grandpa had designed and built himself. Grandma always seemed very elegant to me.  I never once saw her in the daytime where she wasn’t in full makeup, sheathed in a perfectly fitted dress, stockings, sling-back heels, and her bright red curly hair swept up in some elaborately coiffed style. My hair was brown, but in the sun and after the summer, it turned very red…and curly.  I imagine that I got my hair from her.

Grandma had the most magical garden. When I was a "wee lass" I found some little white stones in a circle under the ferns one afternoon. At my questioning, my grandma bent to peer under the ferns with me and acted surprised at the sight. She told me there must have been a faerie ring the night before where the faeries and wood sprites would come out to dance. I asked if I could sleep over to see them the following night, but she told me that it would never do because if little children watched or joined in, the faeries would punish them and make them dance in the middle of the ring until they fell down, completely exhausted. If they did, the faeries would leave that place forever. Of course, this is a bit of Scottish folklore passed down to me was to account for the natural phenomenon of little mushrooms growing in a ring in grassy areas, but I didn't know that then! It fueled my imagination for many such paintings as this through the years.

“Scottish Faerie Ring” Watercolor © 2022 Linnie Aikens Lindsay

When we stayed with Grandma in the evenings our parents went out, then we’d all pile into her bedroom at the back of the house and watch her favorite show, “The Wild, Wild West Show” on T.V., while she sat in her rocker and darned socks. When I was a child, no one threw away clothes when they got holes in them; we patched them or sewed them back together.  “Darning” was hand-sewing the holes back together in socks.  We always wondered who she darned them for since Grandpa Keith hadn’t lived with her during the years we visited her, nor did Grandma Keith wear socks herself. If she wore “tennies” (low profile white Keds™ tennis shoes for women) while doing gardening, she had little nylon anklets like ours, or none at all. Even while she darned, she wore a frothy chiffon night rail of sky blue over a long satin peignoir, along with mules of clear plastic and light blue ostrich feathers. So, did she darn socks just out of habit? It was a question I’d asked her.  She’d just smile.  I don’t remember her being very talkative, although she always had a sparkle in her eye when we asked her questions. 

We asked her a lot of questions about her dad from Scotland, who she’d told us once had played the bagpipes she had hanging in her closet. I was fascinated with the idea of those bagpipes.  I told my aunt about these when I was in my 60’s and she in her mid-80’s, and she insisted that Grandma didn’t have any bagpipes. I was indignant; I could swear that she showed them to me. Alas, maybe the faeries had whisked them away to the land of imagination and nap time dreams, or maybe Grandma had been up to a bit of mischief and went and obtained the evidence she knew we so wanted to believe in! Thinking about the faeries, and now this, I wonder if Grandma had had a bit of an imp inside of her too!  If so, now I see where I got it from, because I am still up to such shenanigans in my 60’s.  I love the many facets of people! Discovering that Grandma had this creative, childlike, impish side to her now makes me cherish her memory all the more.

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Note: All artwork, stories and observations posted within should be credited to the author, Linnie Aikens Lindsay (unless cited in the post). Permission is required for any use of my words or artwork. Taken from my work, "My Life As Wallpaper Art".