Thursday, April 28, 2005
Turbo-Props And Trubulence.
04/28/2005
MESSAGE FROM THE OLD HOUSE. A CANCELLATION MEANS THAT THE OLD HOUSE IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR WEEKS COMMENCING 30TH JULY AND 6TH AUGUST.
Home again! We arrive at the Tower of Glen Trollaigh this Thursday evening, in a great gale from the south, accompanied by heavy showers. Our trip home made more bizarre by flying in a plane with propellers from Exeter to Glasgow, I thought that everything had jet engines in this day and age. Another “first” being that our flight was met by Police, Ambulance and Para-medics, I had not noticed above the roar of the turbo-props and the bucketing turbulence that some unfortunate had collapsed at the rear of the plane. I must say that I am increasingly of the opinion that there should be some form of intelligence and/or fitness test before the public are allowed into airport terminals. I was amazed at the appalling standards of manners, dress and sobriety displayed when we flew out of Glasgow last Sunday. A simple Terminal Admittance Test or TAT could be devised, apart from assessing the sobriety of the candidate, there should be proficiency in the Queen’s English and instant removal for anyone running, breaking wind, eating “fast food” or wearing incorrectly orientated head gear. All ladies of any age over size ten should have to wear skirts and their oxters, body piercing and tattoos must be covered. I would prefer that no child under ten be allowed to fly and that passengers who weigh more than three times the weight of their baggage allowance should be stopped from boarding any flight. The Great Bed of Trollaigh is a welcome sight tonight, for although we have only been away for a few days, we definitely have a faux jet lag, and I made the mistake of looking at a nasty pile of post waiting on my desk. So a deep and restful sleep tonight and tally-ho tomorrow! Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
The Glen At Its Best
04/24/2005
MESSAGE FROM THE OLD HOUSE. A CANCELLATION MEANS THAT THE OLD HOUSE IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR ANY WEEK BETWEEN 30TH JULY TO 20TH AUGUST.
What a delight to wake to yet another glorious spring day, it is already 12 degrees as I wonder to the boot room door with a steaming mug of refreshing green tea to survey the policies of my beloved Glen Trollaigh. The weather shows the glen off to its very best, cloudless blue sky above, the eye drifts down across distant ridges to the burgeoning glen floor, green grass pushes up, larches have that unique fresh coat of needles and even our old beech avenue has a hint of new bronze tops. What a joy, I deliberately pass over the pernicious weeds which will be my constant companions for the next few months, already docks, willow herb, buttercups and bishop’s weed are showing, I consider my tactics, will it be all out chemical warfare, control patches, or my favourite though ineffective paraffin powered flame gun? As no one else seems to be about, I nip out with the matches for a modest and successful Muirburn of a corner of dearest Dottie’s wild garden. Spotting a couple of crows, I make a grab for the trusted Jefferies and charged with No6 shot I hazard a double pull. This has an interesting effect on a squawking elderly couple in a campervan, but absolutely no effect on the birds! I am summoned back to the house to buff myself up to receive the Neil Munro Society party. What a joy to entertain such enthusiastic supporters of Scottish culture. As the Brown Brother’s Chenin Blanc, slips down our guests give two readings. One from Munro’s “John Splendid” which mentions Arichastlich and Glen Orchy, another, part of Duncan Ban McIntyre’s farewell to Ben Dorain. We all enjoy Dottie’s and Mhairi’s most excellent buffet and stravaig about the grounds in the sunshine, all very agreeable. The society generously presents me with a bottle of “Para Handy” and huge team photos are organised with much laughter. A pleasant memory as I read the papers in the library. There will be a few days’ gap in my diary, as Dottie and I will spend a short spring break in “Kensington By The Sea”, or Salcombe, Devon to give its proper name! God bless, Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.