Scottish grans (and friends)

Fit like Aveline? Foo’s yir doo’s?

Drookit? Cannae wait! Bring ut oan.

Haar a’ roon i coast yestreen, fae Peterheid tae Inversneckie! Twa quines wiz in i watter sweemin in Nairn! Feel gypes.

Aye me twa. Gairdn hoatchen wi midgs at nicht. Wabbit by then. Can be drookit twa.

Hoachin! I've no heard that in years!!

Rain's coming the nicht, here. We'll see. Nae eesst tae this...

Am fair scunnered, this heats daein' ma heid in!
Ah still look peely wally, but cannae be bothered wi aw that fake tan rubbish!

Nae sign o' the rain, mibbe the morn's morn?

Barbeque at Guid son's yestreen. Ah sat neath a tree fur shade. Noo covert in Midgie bites. Gairden was hoachin wi them.

I dinna like feeling drookit, but in 3 months I will be telling youse all how cold ah am.

Haar's awa noo aboot here

Nae haar here eether.

It's no sae much that I'm wabbit, it's that by this afternoon I'll be drookit.

Nae me, nae haar bit feelin awffy wabbit.

Aye. Me an a'