Articles
For in it there's been some anticks rare: so to these lines you can refer.
The spring before being cauld and weet and work a 1ittle back
Till we get in our turnips we'll hae but little slack.
INTRODUCTION
Over the last twenty five years the village of Kemnay has more than doubled in size resulting in a large number of people moving into the village who had no knowledge of the history of the area or the people who had lived and worked in it. A number of those who came originally moved on but many have settled in the village and their families have grown up here.
Press Cutting
Mayor of Woodland
By Californian papers to hand we note that that Mr James R Mitchell has been elected Mayor of the City of Woodland by a large majority for a term of four years.
Friendships can flourish in peculiar ways. It is also strange on looking back, how little we may know about our friends.
Press Cutting
Yesterday was a great day in the history of Kemnay. It is already well known that Mr Fyfe gifted a handsome clock to be placed in the spire of the U.F. Church.
Recently the death occurred at Fairview House Nursing Home Aberdeen of John Rainnie who spent his formative years at the family home of West Moss Side Monymusk. John requested that he have a private family funeral. His brother in law, Charles Brown, paid tribute to John as follows.
The Chapel
But I anticipate. The chapel is prettily situated close to one of the entrances to Kemnay House, a little way beyond the farm of Milton of Kemnay (Mr H. D. McCombie), close to the Kemnay and Alford Road, and amidst a clump of trees, whilst nearby is the cottar's house tenanted by William Emslie, the beadle. Passing along the road you would never suspect the building to be a place of worship. It is a plain old dwelling with chimneys at both ends. Originally it was erected by dissenters in the district, who gave it the form of a dwelling house, so that in the event of its ceasing to be used as a church it might readily be adapted for ordinary residence. In the fullness of time it reverted to the proprietor, I understand and it has since served as Mr Burnett's chapel.
MEMORIES OF THE LITTLE RED HOUSE
Whaur westward fae the Mither Tap the braes o BennachieFa gently tae the windin Don, meanderin tae the sea,
There lies an earthly Paradise the Sun himsel lo’es best,
For aye it gets his hinmost smile frae dark Pitfichie’s crest.
O happy blend o moorland and cultivated field,
The wardly route I dare to fout frae sic a peaceful bield,
O God ye maun hae lo’ed me in an unco high degree,
Tae gie me as Life’s bivouac, the Braes o Bennachie.