Sunday, July 31, 2005
Sunny Sunday
07/31/2005
A very fair Sunday with sunshine from the start, at least my start at 7ish. By my standards I was late to bed staying up to watch that stupid film “Sleepless in Seattle”, which I always find mindlessly enjoyable, particularly as I find Tom Hanks a grade above the average thespian. We have been granted a lovely summer’s day, warm, breezy and non-stop sunshine, Glen Trollaigh will lift the most jaded spirit in these conditions. This is the first day of West Highland Week; with the fleet racing to Oban. I am amazed that I used to feel that this was the downhill slope of the sailing season with Scottish Series, Cork and Cowes behind us. However, the summer still has weeks to run and perhaps we should universally adopt the continental view that summer is August, rather than this secret being enjoyed by the London Establishment, Frogs and Huns. Let’s face it the first time any barrister takes off his wig is for The Henley Regatta at the very end of June. I still love the sea and often dream of chucking up all this bloody responsibility and shooting away with dearest Dottie on a comfortable 60 footer just like ZUZA who hove into Oban bay on Friday while I was snatching a rapid but splendid lobster salad at The Waterfront. The skipper told me that they were sailing round the world visiting the best dive sites, after St Kilda they were heading for the Caribbean, such a life has some attractions! I am revelling in a wonderful evening at the Tower of Glen Trollaigh with late sunshine and blue skies, how I wish I could give you all a flavour of this perfection. Perhaps it could all be encapsulated in a sip of the Young Ardbeg, hell I will try the comparison test on the long terrace whilst I toast my toes in the sun. God bless you all, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Summer Breezes
07/30/2005
I have enjoyed one of the best moments of any Scottish summer. I was up the Alt Trollaigh checking on our water supply because we have not had any rain for ten days. It was warm and dry with a fair breeze blowing from the North, I lay back on a bank letting my mind drift and then I heard it, above the bird song, the chatter of the burn, the buzz of insects, I heard the whistling on-rush of the breeze through the stiff heather and bog myrtle, carrying their fragrance as is flowed past me, quite magical. Back at the Tower of Glen Trollaigh Lachie and I are hacking back some of the BOGIE inspired long grass, indeed it is only a month or so before we must cut back all the parklands. This patch of fair weather has me busy in the gunroom and my fingers itch in anticipation of the start of shooting in two weeks, dearest Dottie is already planning some shooting weekends. As many of you know I rather dread these parties, as they require lots of good behaviour and can often go dreadfully wrong, as a damage limitation exercise I have suggested that we all check the guest lists in advance and stick to them, no last minute changes please. August will bring the girls up from London; with all the problems there, I shall be glad to have them home even if I will have to put up with a number of hopeless boyfriends droning on about bugger all. Speaking of London I must say that the Met, for whom I normally have no affection, do seem to have pulled out all the stops with the current crop of bombers. It is easy, with hindsight, to criticise the odd error, but in general, they should have our wholehearted support. We must ignore the whinging of a few clerics and civil rights wallahs and put up a united and strong front against anyone who tries to blow any of us to bits. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.