Wayfarer Column- There is more fun in accepting tales you are told

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There are many faces to life and we must look at them all to see what there is to understand about life in general.

A lot of people seem to complicate life by trying to explain things which really do not need to be thought off in such detail.

There are people who wish to delve into the lives of such as Robert Burns, Oscar Wilde, Marilyn Monroe plus a host of other famous characters, to read into their lives their own interpretation of what made them ‘tick’. Why can we not just accept people for what they are and listen to their tales without the need to find out a hidden depth which may not even be there.

There is more fun in accepting what you are told, with perhaps a little reservation than seeking to find out what is sometimes an unpleasant fact about a character.

Take the poor ‘Maid of Curragh’ still buried under that large stone at Curragh Farm and consider what would happen if she ever did manage to escape and start up her nagging again.

I am sure that is not what the present farmer would not want, mind you it would seem that as some form of security he has placed a land rover in a nearby field so that if the ‘Maid’ ever does escape she will have transport to take her a long way away.

A tale which was passed down to me many years ago and which I have passed on to my offspring.

There is also the local tale of handsome Sir John Cathcart whose residence was Carleton Castle at Lendalfoot.

Sir John saw fit to increase his wealth by marrying rich ladies and in the fullness of time disposing of them by pushing the fair ladies down the face of Games Loup onto the rocks below.

That is until he married May Collean or Culzean, a very rich heiress, who would have been the eighth one to meet her end in that fashion. However she was a bright intelligent lady, quick enough in mind and action to foresee his ploy and turn the tide on Sir John who was the one to be pushed on to the rocks below.

A sad loss as it is thought Sir John Cathcart could have been one of the gentlemen who met fortnightly at Girvan green for a game of golf.

These are tales which are well known locally, but should never be forgotten as they are part of the folklore of this beautiful part of Carrick. It is agreed that some tales should be taken with a pinch of salt, and some accepted at face value, but all passed on to willing listeners who will accept them as such.

See you next week with more tales.