Sunday, March 06, 2005
Good Weather
03/06/2005
What a wonderful alpine weekend. We continue to enjoy excellent winter weather, the snow line has crept up to about 2000 feet, but above that, it is thick snow and heavy frost. The sun has been kind to us and temperatures have varied from minus three degrees to almost plus ten degrees. Winds have been moderate to light, cyclonic veering from the north to southwesterly. High pressure is moving in for a day or two. Glen Trollaigh seems to be experiencing much better weather than any other part of the country. Dearest Dotty and I have been working away in the policies with lots of ideas and plans for the garden and the second septic tank soak away. Our workload is eased by our eldest daughter, Dorothy, mucking in and, more importantly answering and filtering our telephone calls. One call that did reach me was from a mole in Argyll and Bute Council who was able to point out that the road improvements planned for Taynuilt and Connel, that I mentioned yesterday, will indeed go ahead because, Firstly, there is a huge surplus in the council budget, which must be spent before 5th April. Secondly, these villages have been chosen because they have now become enclaves of bureaucrats, councillors and members of the medical profession, including Scotland’s chief medical officer. Apparently these dignitaries have now sold their seaside crofts to blown-ins and shifted their considerable bottoms north of Oban. We almost accept that these unworthy worthies are given a smooth ride to their designer offices. So now, their roads, cars, bums and offices are provided by us humble taxpayers. Humbug. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Yellow Lines
03/04/2005
The strong winds come whistling in from the north and back a little to the north west. It is very cold with temperatures around freezing but feeling colder in the strong breeze. It stays mainly dry with an odd, very light wintery shower. Plenty of snow above 1500 feet and tales of fifteen inches of snow at Aviemore. Dearest Dotty decides to tackle her personal papers today, while I flip into Oban for bits and pieces of stores. It is bitter beside the sea and I have to move briskly from call to call, even though I am well wrapped up. Not having time for the luxury of a white tablecloth lunch, I opt for the next best thing, a mutton pie from The Nevis Bakery. This Fort William based enterprise has won many prizes every year since I can remember for their baked goods and I wholeheartedly recommend their products to any snacky eater. On the way into Oban I am reminded of how bad our rural roads are becoming with a sighting of the latest Scottish Executive spin; the Surveyor With Yellow Paint. These unfortunates travel the appalling scottish road system with measuring and surveying gear looking terribly important, painting yellow lines round cracks, subsidence and potholes. Obviously, repair work is imminent. Any sensible person may think that, but it is all tosh, the yellow paint may make you feel better, but after a few rainstorms, the paint disappears and one finds oneself still crashing into the same tarmac crevasses. The budget has been squandered on free taxis for one-legged lesbians, and the surveyors are raising the hopes of another gullible community far to the north. Now where is the Ardbeg? Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.