I grew up in a part of North East Scotland that was still politically Conservative. But more important it was morally conservative. In those parts of rural Aberdeenshire that were too far to easily commute into Aberdeen we spoke Doric as our everyday language with friends and in the shops. There was a whole vocabulary of farming language for which I don’t know the English equivalent. There was something direct and plain about these words and the people who spoke them. The idea that a quine [girl] could rape a loon [boy] never even occurred to us.