Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Winds Do Blow
02/09/2005
A strong southwesterly brings low pressure and 24 hours of heavy rain. The rivers rise and every hill burn is in full spate. It is not good weather to be out and about, therefore, only the most essential tasks are tackled, it is best to catch up with work and maintenance indoors. The weather has been not too bad for almost two weeks, so we cannot complain when our luck runs out, however it is frustrating. A call to Arichastlich confirms a wet and wild trip over Glen Ogle to Edinburgh for shopping and a taste of drive by sight seeing in heavy traffic, many castles and monuments were identified, and some money spent with the Edinburgh storekeepers. We all hope for better weather tomorrow and a chance to knock something off the “must do” list. The wind and rain are whipping around the Tower and I wander around checking the more regular leaky spots, the amount of South in the gale seems to keep the worst of the damage at bay. Only the briefest of runs with the dogs, carefully avoiding desecrating dearest Dotty’s front garden. It is a night for reading in front of a good fire, and as the first day of lent I consider giving up a pleasure, but with so many to chose from, it is a very difficult decision. Your Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Dame Ellen
02/08/2005
Low clouds running in from the South, some light rain, but the snow has almost all gone for the sixth or seventh time this year. Temperature is plus seven degrees but still feels colder in the wind. Awake to the good news that Ellen Macarthur, or Dame Ellen as she will now be known, has beaten the French by sailing around the world, single handed in 71 days. Although this is a fabulous success, I do fear that this may set off a chain of impossible challenges that will eventually end in a catastrophe. I can clearly remember Sir Francis Chichester, returning in triumph to be knighted by ER2 having completed the same voyage in 277 days, plus one stop! I will not be stuffy and I will raise my Borsalino to honour such a feat and hope that Dame Ellen will live a long and happy life. In a strange way, I dream of such an achievement myself, but I am honest enough to realise that I am fifty years and several million GBpounds light. Every month or so I peruse the yachtie magazines and think of possible purchases, but it is always the voyage that is so vital, rather than the destination, perhaps after all, Dame Ellen’s challenge is the most important consideration. I phone Arichastlich for news; Kim has managed a full day of writing, while Mhairi Katharine has entertained Michele, and travelled to visit Isla at the Post Office and hiked a long way across wild hills to a play park. Fighter jets buzzed the house, Gramps washed the van and with some difficulty, Chicken and Gramp’s homegrown potatoes seemed better than the preferred, but unavailable Pasta. A trip to Edinburgh is planned for tomorrow. Here in Glen Trollaigh, I have at last found a septic soulmate in Davie from Campbeltown who is very sensitive to the problems in The Tower of Glen Trollaigh’s septic systems. Davie is quite obviously an genius, but I am a little unnerved to hear that my magnificent design, along with all modern ideas are doomed, although of course Davie will be available at £80 a pop it sort them out. The game is afoot, and we shall see how many times I have to hand over £80 to Davie! I have promised Ardbeg hospitality for a speedy visit, hopefully bringing dearest Dotty’s fainting fits to an end. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.