Annick Lodge is a late 18th-century manor house in the Neo-Classical style then in vogue, built on the site of the earlier 15th-century Pearston Hall, an estate that was connected with the Tironensian Order of Kilwinning Abbey from 1140. It is located about 5 miles from Irvine.
Like many Neoclassical buildings, it has a strongly symmetrical design (see photo). The kitchen premises at the rear may incorporate an earlier structure.
It's history of ownership in its present form goes back to Captain Alexander Montgomerie (1744-1802), brother of Hugh Montgomerie, 12th Earl of Eglinton. It seems to have been passed down in the family until 1934, when it was purchased by John Ronald Howie. The property then included Annick Mains (three houses for staff), Annick Lodge Village (a terrace of 12 houses) and the 90-acre dairy farm, Roddinghill. Howie died in June 1982, leaving Annick Lodge to his family.
The Lodge hosted various horse trials. In 1973, whilst celebrating her 23rd birthday, Princess Anne took part in a horse trial at Annick Lodge and won the Novice Class Trial Prize of £2o.
After Howie's death, I believe the estate passed to his daughter Margaret (1938 - 2016) who was married to Melvin Roger Quarm, (1938 - 1997). According to sale records, Margaret appears to have sold it in November2008 for £950,000, although the family retained nearby Holehouse Farm, where Margaret's son Lachlan farmed and bred animals until his untimely death in 2021 at the age of 53.
Who bought the house and now owns it? The best guess is that it is Leonard Kerr, who gave Annick Lodge as his address in documents for Collins and Paterson Auctioneers, a company that was dissolved in 2018. Kerr seems to be active in the horse-breeding and racing world, a perfect fit for Annick Lodge's historic connection with all matters equine.
The biggest gig ever held in Irvine was undoubtedy the 2 nights OASIS played at Irvine Beach Park on the nights of the 14th and 15th of July, 1995, when they were the hottest act in rock. Yes, hard to believe now, but it was even something of a high point for Oasis, "Better than fookin' Glastonbury, Noel said. Keith Cameron's excellent review for Sounds gives you the flavour of those two electric nights.
TIDAL RAVE
It's a nice problem to have, but a problem nonetheless. What's more, it's one OASIS have had coming for some time. Sooner or later, the insane momentum of the past 18 months would inevitably culminate in a single event into which every last twitch of emotion was invested, each last ounce of inspiration poured, all available words said, and teardrops shed. Leaving... what? Is this all there is? How far can too far go? For God's sake WHERE NOW?!
It happened in Irvine. Under a huge, star-flecked, blue canvas Saturday sky on the West Coast of Scotland, Oasis and their flock reached that fantastic precipice. After one of the most breathtakingly emphatic celebrations of primal rock instinct you could ever hope to experience, the stage empties and the closing drones off "I Am the Walrus" drift among us like cinders from a beacon.
Tradition dictates that it's game over, that this is all there is, but, as if willed by some collective conviction to the contrary, no one moves an inch. Cheers melt into chants of "Oasis! Oasis!..."
Then, it happens: "Hey Jude" comes over the PA as clear and loud and true as anything that had gone before. Obviously, everyone sings it, word for word, na-na-na-na for na-na-na- bloody-na. And yes, it's sheer magic. Strangers are smiling, friends are embracing, while lovers are frankly losing it in a big way. In different circumstances this might all seem wildly (and quite rightly) embarrassing, but here, with 6000 individuals possessed of the conviction of lemmings as they topple over the edge, there is no room for doubt.
True, Oasis have never promised any more or less than this, a singed-eyebrows glimpse of rock's holy grail, but to see them deliver so comprehensively must have confounded the few doubting Thomas's present. What it did for the hordes of disciples was little short off an epiphany.
Proof of that comes as the lights finally come up and the satiated masses shuffle for the tent flaps: from their midst issues a wobbly but heartfelt chorus of "Live Forever."
An exceptional event, then, and one that touches the band as deeply as anyone. Noel Gallagher emerges into the backstage paddock exuding the gritted teeth euphoria of a victorious prize-fighter or the man who snatched the last minute winner at Wembley. Liam meanwhile, had appeared atypically energised throughout the set forsaking his this-is-my-bit-of-stage-and-I'm-sticking-to-it plan of campaign and making several forays out front to indulge in a bit of mutual shadow boxing; less "Come and have a go," more "Come on! Come on! THIS IS F___ING BRILLIANT, INNIT?! At other points he is even moved to accompany his vocals with what appears to be a fidgety hand-jive.
It's no wonder. All manner of crazed shenanigans are unfolding before him, as kids mount the ten-foot protective structures built around the main tent supports, and others shin up the perimeter poles and proceed to frog madly while suspended upside down.
"Ey, you're giving me the shakes," he says as proceedings quiver to their preordained climax, "I'm feeling just like Elvis." A crazy situation, no less. For their part, Bonehead and Guigsy do their stuff with quiet aplomb, apparently sparking off the surefooted rhythm manoeuvres now provided by Alan White.
By comparison, Friday's show had been merely great. The band played the same songs the sound was huge, loud, and crystal clear, and a Big Top's worth of sweaty Scottish youth forgot the damp weather and went crackers. It was, for the record, far better than Glastonbury.
"Fookin' better than Glastonbury, this," declaimed Liam, with feeling. "Not a long-haired person in sight!" But the very fact that Oasis can veer from the ordinary to the inspired - and cover all points between - during the course of three gigs in which the bare essentials of what they do remain pretty much similar is a mark of a band in league with rock's spirit world. And when the gods are smiling upon them, hell, you'd believe anything is possible.
So the opening "Acquiesce" sets a tone, forging a communal bond, a celebration of shared experience. "We need each other! We believe in one another!" This is rave's mania methodology transposed to the trad rock n' roll arena, as young men who, on another day in a different place would most likely be kicking the shit out of each other, fall on their knees and worship in the name of the here and now.
"Supersonic" is stretched and dwelled upon to the brink of common sense, then "Hello" steams through like an adrenalized hailstorm. Liam bellows "It's good to be back, good to be back, hello..." with equal reserves of disdain and sincerity, while any time Noel isn't punching the air he's laughing his head off or asking us if we fancy meeting here again next year (yeessss!).
And it's not hard to see their fraternal point. The echo in Gallagher interplay as "Some Might Say" surfs on to some rarely glimpsed far horizon has the deportment of such supreme confidence that the ensuing "Roll With It" almost sounds modest by comparison. Almost. Tonight, the next Oasis single is serviced with throwaway glee, its drop-dead genius swagger entirely self-evident.
'Cos if you want subtlety there's "Slide Away" ("for all the girls"), the optimum moment for Liam to flaunt the precise rudeness of his pipes at present, and for Noel to crank out some ever more sorrowful variations on what has hitherto been widely acknowledged as his finest five minutes.
That is, until "Don't Look Back in Anger" is unveiled come the dawn of "Morning Glory." This new tune is bound to cause dissent within the jury. Cut from a similarly damp-eyed cloth, it features Noel on solo yearnsome vocals - Liam takes the opportunity for a tea break - and some particularly beguiling six-string heart lassos. That "Live Forever" follows is simply too much; even the stoniest-faced among the security guards are noted twitching suspiciously.
So how to explain it all? Hours later, composure fully regained in the bar of Ayr's Caledonian Hotel, Noel agrees that CAST were a sterling warm-up before confirming that for "Don't Look Back in Anger," at least, he'd enjoyed the benefit of divine intervention: for that song and that song alone he'd been using one of George Harrison's personalised spectrums. Holding it up, he turns it round to reveal the legend 'While my guitar gently weeps.'
Which does seem as good an explanation as any. It only remains to suggest that Oasis make devotional rock n' roll stripped of the messianic bullshit, true believers who don't spoil a caper by pretending music can be expected to take you anywhere other than out of wherever this place happens to be at the time.
In this case it was Irvine, and we're all coming back next year. Some time after its initial fanfare, and at the hands of a different group of wandering preachers, this seemed as close to a Second Coming as anyone could have thought possible.
What do we know about the candidates in the forthcoming General Election? Not much, so here's what we could find out at short notice.
First up, the leading candidate in this constituency, according to polls, is SNP incumbent Patricia Gibson:
Gibson is the only SNP candidate who is making progress in Ayrshire, as elsewhere in the county SNP candidates are losing ground to Labour with the Tories a distant third.
She is very much a typical SNP politician in the sense that she likes to "keep it in the family" being married to Kenneth Gibson, a long-time SNP insider, who represents exactly the same constituency, but in the Scottish Parliament (where it is called Cunningham North).
Patricia was born in Glasgow in 1968 and got a BA (Hons) in English and Politics from the University of Glasgow. She then worked as an English teacher in Glasgow, Lanarkshire, and East Renfrewshire.
She began her steady rise in the SNP after meeting future husband Kenneth Gibson in 2003, when she was already 35 and he was 42 and already an SNP MSP. However, he was voted out the same year. In 2007 the Gibsons married and got back on the SNP gravy train, with Kenneth getting back into the Scottish Parliament and Patricia getting onto Glasgow City Council. BTW, Ken's mother Iris also enjoyed a stint on Glasgow council, replacing her son in 1999!
With her husband's backing, Patricia next unsuccessfully contested the North Ayrshire & Arran seat in 2010. However, she had better luck in 2015, when the undemocratic Westminster electoral system gave the SNP an undeserved landslide in Scotland. All this political activity was not without its costs, as the Gibsons had trouble starting a family, leading to a tragic stillborn pregnancy in 2009 (when Patricia was aged 41) that almost killed her.
In Parliament Gibson has played an undistinguished role, mainly being mentioned in stories about falling asleep on the back benches or suffering from another member's farting. In 2017, it was revealed that husband Kenneth had enjoyed a £10,000 "holiday of a lifetime" in Costa Rica with 42-year-old Ellen Forson, an aide to SNP Economy Secretary Keith Brown. Despite this open philandering the couple remain married. I guess politics must be a welcome distraction from these domestic woes.
Gibson's main opponent is Labour hopeful Irene Campbell, a local Saltcoats woman apparently in her 40s, who you wouldn't notice walking down the street.
She was educated at Auchenharvie Academy in Saltcoats, and now works as a "programme manager" in "Britain's failing NHS."
She is also chairperson of the campaign group "Splash," which is seeking to recreate the outdoor swimming pool that once existed in Saltcoats. Don't know much more about her. Possibly the least charismatic candidate running in Ayrshire.
The Tory offering in this constituency is Todd Ferguson, a councillor on North Ayrshire Council representing Dalry & West Kilbride ward, now called North Coast ward, since 2017.
Born in West Kilbride around 40 years ago, he is an apparently extrovert resident of the Island of Cumbrae and is a "business development manager," which could mean any number of things. Ferguson has had quite an active or even "bumpy" career as a councillor, and seems to get under the skin of his opponents. Back in 2018 he was ungenerously accused of "xenophobia" merely for pointing out that Joy Brahim, an SNP councillor, was carpetbagging by having "two tax payer funded jobs" while being a foreign citizen with no deep connection to the area. This was worthy of comment as the whole basis for the SNP is supposedly "Scottish identity and interests."
Ms. Brahim is apparently a Lebanese Dutchwoman, who later resigned from the council in 2021 for no apparent reason, presumably to return to her country of citizenship, if not blood, proving Ferguson's criticisms to be legitimate, or even brave in today's hysterically "politically correct" climate.
His main campaign message is to vote Tory to "keep the SNP out," but recent poll data suggests that his efforts are actually helping the SNP to get re-elected. Ironic!
What do we know about the candidates in the forthcoming General Election? Not much, so here's what we could find out at short notice.
First up, the leading candidate in this constituency, according to polls, is Labour's Lillian Jones:
Jones is something of a mystery woman and there is little info about her online, although she seems to have been involved in East Ayrshire politics for some time, serving as councillor for the Kilmarnock West and Crosshouse ward.
Back in 2012, there were complaints in the East Ayrshire Labour Party about her being selected as a candidate for councillor despite being an "outsider."
She sounds Scottish and must be in her 50s. I wish there was more to judge her on than her rather dowdy and uninspiring appearance.
Jones's main opponent is the SNP incumbent Alan Brown (right).
He is a 52-year-old ex-civil engineer and graduate of Loudon Academy and Glasgow Uni, who got elected to the council in 2007. He has been at Westminster since the SNP landslide of 2015, when the party won almost all the Scottish seats with less than half of the votes.
He is mainly known in parliament for his thick Ayrshire accent which makes him unintelligible to the vast majority of other MPs, but apparently proved irresistible to his American wife, Cyndi Aukerman, whom I suspect is an "Outlander" fan. The couple have two kids.
The Tory candidate Jordan David Cowie is a young Tory high flyer and investment banker. He has apparently been dropped into the constituency to "pay his dues" in a no-hope seat for the Tories. If he does well, it might help him get a safer Tory seat somewhere down the line (assuming they still exist after this election).
He grew up in Glasgow and attended Douglas Academy (2006-2012), so he must be around 30. He then went to Glasgow Uni for a Physics degree (2017) but somehow ended up in banking, working for Goldman Sachs for 3 years before going on to the Lombard Odier Group, where he is an Assistant Vice President. Impressive! If the Tories had won this election he could have been the next Rishi Sunak, but that's not going to happen, is it?
What do we know about the candidates in the forthcoming General Election? Not much, so here's what we could find out at short notice.
First up, the leading candidate in this constituency, according to polls, is Labour's Allan Gemmel:
Gemmel (on the Left) is gay and married to another man, so it is remarkable that Labour have put him up as a candidate in such a contentious and "socially conservative" seat as Central Ayrshire, known for its long history of dour Presbyterianism reinforced by waves of traditional Catholic immigration from the less sophisticated parts of Ireland. Maybe they are counting on the economic Leftism of the voters to trump their rooted-in-the-past social values.
Nevertheless Gemmel is certainly a high-flyer and a top level Labour pick, and is clearly someone Keir Starmer would call on to fill a ministerial position if both are successful on July 4th.
Born in the working class Girdle Toll suburb of Irvine in 1978 at time of severe social dislocation, Gemmel was the son of a council binman. He then began his escape from his humble beginnings by going to Irvine Royal Academy and later studying music and law (at the University of Glasgow), before joining the Civil Service at the age of 25.
He then rose up through a number of diplomatic, cultural, and advisory roles, no doubt assisted by the increasing need for stale British civil service departments to show their woke credentials, to the relatively elevated role of British Trade Commissioner and Deputy High Commissioner for South Asia in 2020.
He married his ballet-dancing partner Damien at the age of 37. The couple have no children. He got an OBE in 2016.
Gemmel's main opponent is the SNP's Annie McIndoe, a woman apparently in her 50s, who is replacing retiring "supersized" SNP MP Philippa Whitford.
Although hardly slender, Annie is a more acceptable size than her SNP predecessor.
Born in Kilwinning, the home of freemasonry, and based in Troon, she went to Marr College and did something in "public administration" at the low-ranking Glasgow Caledonian University. She also describes herself as an "ex-naval wife" although the cause of her change of status, whether a shipwreck or love on the rocks, is unclear.
She has held a number of positions in the grant-and-tax-funded "charity sector," but since 2017 has been a "case worker" for SNP MPs Whitford and Dorrans (put that on the expenses account!). As with "high flyer" Gemmel and his civil servant career, she has not had to make her way in the real world of business.
Her main selling point as a candidate is that she hates litter and has been part of local efforts to keep the beaches clean.
While Ayr, Carrick, and Cumnock have two former bobbies in the top three, Ayrshire Central has two musically talented artistic types. While Labour's Gemmel once toured with the Scottish National, the Tory candidate David Rocks is a music teacher. Yes, someone else who hasn't worked in the real economy!
Rocks was born locally in 1986 and attended Irvine Royal Academy, then the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow from 2003-07. He then got a job teaching music in a North Ayrshire secondary school, probably the same one he went to as a kid. I don't know if he is married and has a family, but I suspect not, as Tory campaigns usually mention that sort of thing.
Rocks has previously contested the North Ayrshire and Arran seat with little success.
What do we know about the candidates in the forthcoming General Election? Not much, so here's what we could find out at short notice.
First up, the leading candidate in this constituency, according to polls, is Labour's Elaine Stewart:
She looks nice enough, and she is or was a councillor on South Ayrshire council. Professionally she is deeply embedded in the tax-and-grant-funded economy, rather than the part of the economy that ultimately funds this sector.
She lives in Kilmarnock, and went to Doon Academy from 1981-84 which means she must be about 46 years old. There are some blanks in her CV but she then got into charity work and charity jobs and started to fill the gaps in her education through the Open University (2002). In 2002 she also got on the council and served as vice chair of education for 4 years. Later (2016) she did a degree at University of Stirling on something child-related. Don't know if she has her own kids.
Ms Stewart's main opponent is the sitting SNP MP Allan Dorrans, someone we have written about already at Errshurr.
He is a large-boned, hook-nosed, lantern-jawed individual of Irish background, although born locally. His physique was no doubt useful in his former career as a policeman down in London (1972 to 1987) and as a "care and resettlement officer" for offenders (2003 to 2009). He also worked briefly in America.
He broke into local politics as a councillor in 2012, and was selected as Parliamentary Candidate over former SNP MP (2015-2017) Corri Wilson, who had become an electoral liability thanks to claiming over a half a million pounds in expenses over just two years, in the process hiring her relatives as her "assistants" (her son Kieran and daughter Shannon).
Dorrans is now almost 70 and is married to Doreen with one son and couple of grandkids. He also survived a bout of Covid.
Far behind Stewart and Dorrans, thanks to the general unpopularity of the Sunak government, is the Conservative candidate Martin Dowey, aged around 55, who is also the leader of Tory-run South Ayrshire council.
Like Dorrans, Dowey is a former copper and certainly wouldn't look out of place in an episode of "Taggart", but his main occupation these days is to prevent the "murder-r-r" of South Ayrshire's finances through overspending.
He is married to Sharon, a Morrison's shop girl who worked her way up to management, before switching to politics and becoming a Conservative MSP on the South Scotland regional list in 2021. At last, someone from the real economy!
It's election time again and the good people of Ayrshire are pondering their Democratic choices. Unfortunately, thanks to the UK's far-from-perfect electoral system, many of your votes will be wasted, and few of you will have a chance to elect the candidates that you really want to. In fact, many of you will be forced to vote tactically, for your second or third choices, rather than your first choices.
How you vote, therefore, will depend on detailed and accurate poll information for your own constituency. One good source for up-to-date polling data is the website Electoral Calculus. Consulting this will help you to make informed decisions about tactical voting.
For example, if you are a Conservative voter in the Central Ayrshire constituency and want to stop the SNP, right now your best bet is the Labour candidate who is close behind, as the Tories are trailing far behind and are set to finish third. Alternatively, if you are a Liberal voter in the same constituency but you are more concerned about the Labour Party getting too large a majority, voting Liberal would be pointless. Your best choice to stop Keir Starmer becoming a "virtual dictator" with a super majority would be to vote SNP.
Anyway, make up your own mind.
Here are how the parties stand in the four Ayrshire constituencies on the 17th of June 2024. Updates will be forthcoming, or simply try out the site yourself.
AI-generated image of a woman in men's clothes from the period, Helen Fielding would have looked a lot "rougher"
Most people think that transsexualism is very much a recent phenomenon, but the historical record proves otherwise. One of my favourite books, "Collection of Anecdotes and Facts Illustrative of Scotland and Scotsman" by James Mitchell of the University of Aberdeen, published in 1825, has the following interesting account. (Note, I have inserted some explanatory notes, as they seem required for a modern audience, and also divided the text into paragraphs.)
A RUSTIC D'EON
(NOTE: Refers to the Chevalier d'Éon, a famous French transsexual)
The following is a detailed account of a female who was detected in man's dress, acting as a plasterer. She belonged originally to SALTCOATS, is now about 27 years of age, and for better than four years she has, off her own free choice, worn the attire and discharged the laborious duties of one of the male sex. Her real name is Helen Oliver; but she has assumed the name of her brother John.
About six years ago, while she was maid-servant in a farmhouse in WEST KILBRIDE, a particular intimacy took place between her and a person in a neighbouring house, who officiated as ploughman. Being frequently seen walking together in quiet and sequestered places, they were regarded as lovers: ultimately, however, this ploughman turned out to be also a female; and it is believed by Helen's relatives and acquaintances, that it was the arguments of this personage which induced her to abandon the female dress and duties.
Upon Sunday the 4th of January, 1818, while in her parents house at Saltcoats, she requested her mother to give her her wee cutty pipe, and she would give her two new ones in exchange. (NOTE: somehow symbolic of her decision to identify as a man) To this unusual demand, the mother after some questions, consented; and Helen immediately afterwards began to write a letter, which, in answer to an inquiry from her parent, she said was to inform the people in GREENOCK, to whom she was hired as a servant, that she would not be with them for some time, for several reasons she then alleged. (NOTE: a resignation letter)
Early on the following morning, Helen helped herself to a complete suit of her brother's clothes, disappeared without giving the least intimation of her future prospects, or where she intended to fix her residence. Dressed in her new attire, she reached the house of a cousin in GLASGOW, on the same day. Her relative was not sufficiently intimate with the person of the fair imposter to detect the fraud. Never doubting in the least that she was "the real John Oliver," among other inquiries for absent relatives, "sister Helen" was not forgotten.
A plasterer stopped (lodged) at the time in her cousin's house and she resolved to learn that business. Accordingly she went for trial to a person in the Calton; but having fallen out with her master she left the town. She then went to PAISELY, where she wrought (worked) for about three months, and she was next employed for about half a year in JOHNSTONE. There, either for amusement, or to prevent suspicion and ensure concealment, she courted a young woman, and absolutely carried the joke so far as to induce the girl to leave her service (job) to be married.
Travelling one night between Johnstone and Paisley, she was accosted by a lad from Salcoats, who was intimate with her person, parents, and history; and in consequence she removed to KILMARNOCK, where she remained six months. Besides the places already mentioned, she has been in LANARK and EDINBURGH, working always at the plastering, except a short time she was employed by a Glasgow flesher about the Bell-street market. A variety of circumstances have frequently impelled this rustic D' Eon to change not only her master and house of residence, but also the town in which she was comfortably employed, particularly as she was often, or rather almost, always obliged to board or share her lodgings with some neighbour workman, and though for obvious reasons she seldom detailed more of her previous history than mentioned the towns she had visited and the masters she had served, yet some sagacious (intelligent) females have been known to declare that "Johnie must have been either a sodger (soldier) or a sailor, because "when he likes himsel' he can brawly cout his breeks, darn his stockings, mak' his ain meat, and wash his ain claise" (...he can beautifully repair his trousers, darn his stockings, cook his own meals, and wash his own clothes).
At the beginning of next February (1819) Helen applied for employment to a master plasterer in Hutchesonsontown. She said she was 17 years of age and stated that she and a sister were left orphans at an early age; urged her forlorn condition and that having already had some practise, she was very anxious to be bound an apprentice, that she might obtain an ample knowledge of the business. Eventually she was employed, and though she had the appearance of a little man, she was in reality a tall woman, being about 5 feet 4 inches high. By no means shy (afraid) of a lift, times without number she has carried the heavy hod full of lime for the Irish labourer in attendance.
Steady, diligent, and quiet, she gave her master every satisfaction, and he, considering her rather a delicate boy, feelingly kept her at a light ornamental work, and paid her seven shillings per week. Some time since a workman was employed by the same master to whom Helen was intimately known. The master having learned the facts of the case, placed her apart at work from the men, and took a favourable opportunity to speak with her. She indignantly denied her metamorphosis, offered to produce letters from her sister, declared that she was a Freemason, and besides had been a flesher, a drummer in the Greenock volunteers, and made a number of statements with a view to escape detection.
An Irishman, with characteristic confidence, sprang upon the heroine, hugged her like a brother bruin (bear), and cried in his genuine Doric (dialect), "Johny, they tell me you're a woman, and dang it, I mane (mean) to know, for I love a pretty girl." The agile female extricated herself in an instant, and with a powerful kick drove him from her; at the same time exclaiming with an oath, she would soon convince him she was not a woman.
Ultimately, however, the truth was wrung from her, and she then consequently left the town. She writes a good hand, and previous to her departure, she addressed a card to her master, in which she bade him farewell, and requested him not to make much talk about "H. Oliver."
