Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Frog March
06/26/2007
Those of you who are familiar with the highways and byways of north Argyll will not be surprised by the sight of dearest Dottie swerving the old motor from side to side in the gloaming at this time of year. Readers will realise that this short swinging slalom is not caused by over application of The Cloudy Bay, rather by the white knuckle concentration required to avoid Frogs and Toads which pepper damp road surfaces after dark. My reason for making this rather personal observation is to emphasise my increasing obsession with the conflict between town and country, in the peace of the library at The Tower of Glen Trollaigh my desk groans with reams of bumph from zillions of departments directing me to obey trillions of controls and regulations, my kingdom is no longer my own. However I will gladly bet a pound to a penny that those bureaucrats who are not ignoring their carbon footprints by jetting off every weekend to their Dorsoduro apartments, are loading their mountain bikes onto the Audi Avant, and through sheer bloody ignorance are flattening every Frog and Toad in Argyll with their ego inflating low profile tyres.
Whilst I am forced to scrub Lysol into the soles of my boots every time I cross the threshold and to walk miles to meet Postie so that his van does not breach my Bio Security Plan, I note with an ironic laugh that after ten years of academic deliberation and PhD spin, The Badger Trust have acknowledged that Brock does transmit Bovine TB in contradiction to the most fundamental Euro Bio Security directive. However we Brits must not do anything to interfere with this expanding and highly dangerous threat, just wait until a few PM’s children are bitten by a pack of rabid badgers and we will see just how quickly a badger cull can be introduced.
Speaking of children, I am told that the curtains remain tightly closed at the ridiculously late hour of 8.00am in Glen Orchy as Granny and Gramps enjoy a well deserved long lie after the departure of the Granddaughter. Certainly the panic phone calls seem to tail off as the week went by, the last one asking how to stop a small girl’s nose bleed, any fool with first aid experience knows that this can easily be achieved with a large metal key and a reasonable length of herring line, however hopefully G and G will stride over the head of the Long Glen some sunny day for a sundowner and tell us about their family week. Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Responsibility
06/20/2007
I am told that The Observer newspaper, too left wing for Glen Trollaigh, has produced a great number of free wall charts on a variety of subjects over the past months, apparently this week’s offering featured a rather disappointing “51 British Prime Ministers”. Without exceptions these wollahs are complete no hopers, adding insult to injury the “51st” PM was one Gordon Beastly Brown MP, shortly to be responsible for the U.K. and international affairs. GBB will certainly the shortest serving and least popular PM on even The Observer’s wall chart, the problem for us humble citizens is just how much mayhem and chaos he can conjure up in those few months.
The spring garden colours of white, pink and yellow are fading away to be replaced by the deep greens of summer, and with this change of season comes a welcome visitor to a rather damp and midgie Glen Orchy, Mhairi Katharine has arrived to visit her grand parents at Arichastlich. This has resulted in several agitated calls to yours truly from “Gramps” asking advice on looking after little girls, a slightly fruitless quest as my parenting skills with two daughters ran to paying school fees and funding the odd pony. However we managed to avoid some of the obvious pit falls such as showing Mhairi how to sharpen a chain saw, or the knots required to attach barbed fishing hooks to a line, both apparently contemplated diversions. The first aid panic was a call about patching up superficial facial damage following a head plant into the concrete pit of the cattle grid while the top was off for cleaning. The alarm was caused by the expected arrival of “Mom” before the phsyog had time to heal. I have been told that the general count of scrapes, bumps, bites and bruises has risen with lots of outdoor activities including hiking, learning of the dangers of handling barbed wire (even accidentally), horseback riding, fly fishing, ATV rides, dam and castle building, looking for Badgers and a trip on the ferry to Mull, the narrow gauge railway to Torosay Castle (with super fast slide) and views of Duart Castle, back to Oban and the grumpy car park man. Personally more concerning are the rumours that indoor amusements centre around a chemistry set, soil and environmental testing, although a simple train set is also in use. Questions about Boris, the dog’s “bits”, frequently on display, are being fielded back to Daddy. Farm visits have yielded more dogs, sheep, lambs, hens and a bunny rabbit.
Sounds like a busy time at the far end of the Long Glen, tranquillity will return next week. Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.