Saturday, February 05, 2005
Ben Udlaidh
02/05/2005
As forecast, we have a bright, wintery start to the day, and we are promised more over two days. It is Saturday, one of our favourite days, dating from the first few years with dearest Dotty when it was her day off, and I only worked for half the day. It was our day for fun, and we still feel frivolous every Saturday. I join John, Steven and Andrew to tackle Ben Udlaidh in misty conditions. We reach this summit in two hours and examine the obsolete radio mast there, and discuss ways of removing it. It is cold and we move off the snowy top in worsening weather. Despite the BBC forecast, we descend towards Alt Ghamhnain in a snowstorm, turning to heavy rain as we struggle and slip towards the B8074 just North of Glenorchy Farm. The Baronial knees have definitely seen better days; fortunately, a radio message brings Erica and a Land Rover to collect the sore and wet pile of bones! A bowl of hot soup and a hot bath follow. I wonder if Dotty will be frivolous enough to perform her delightful Japanese dancing massage to restore me. Perhaps I could instruct Old Mhairi in this ancient ritual, but my intentions might be misconstrued. Certainly, I am allowed a glass or two of the Ardbeg in front of the Great Fire for medicinal reasons. Lovely to get such a workout, even with such painful results! Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Rain, Heavy at Times in the West.
02/04/2005
Rain in the west, heavy at times. That sums it up nicely as we go through a dreich day. However, it remains mild at ten degrees, with light southwesterly breezes. Lachie and I manage to dodge most of the showers to spend the day chasing and sorting sheep, in company with an assorted pack of controlled dogs. It goes well and despite some mixed weather the flock are in better than expected shape. Some farmers are talking of compensation claims for livestock lost to exceptional bad weather, but I am not in favour of that. I feel that our losses are manageable and part of the business of farming. It will be interesting to see how the Bavarian grazers and Normand mini farmers approach this potential honey pot. One must expect burning trucks and barricaded motorways and ports. These people, who are not by nature or blood our allies, certainly know how to organise a riot, but only to support self-interest. Do not wait for them to support the irradification of third world debt! Trudging back to the Tower, I sense that the septic tank problem is becoming urgent, but I hope I have a plan and some urgent phone calls from the office ensue. While I stand in fuggy tweeds, I phone round the glens. Everyone is suffering from rainy day blues. At Arichastlich, the Kerrs prepare for many family guests arriving over the weekend and all bedrooms and floor spaces are booked. Most continents are represented. I am afraid that the weather has affected my mood, but if I can toast my feet in front of the library fire, with a book on one side and a dram on the other and hopefully Dearest Dotty to chat with, all will be well. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.