Changing Monday

01/17/2005

A little of everything this Monday, good gusty squalls thro the night from the West. Veers Southerly with heavy rain thro the day until we have another acceptable afternoon with low mist, high cloud, showers, cyclonic winds, then by dark it starts to snow with the wind in the West. It is a little colder at 4 to 5 degrees, but a poor forecast with the nannies declaring “do not leave home unless your journey is really necessary” i.e. The police do not want their slumbers disturbed by idiots stuck in snow drifts “unless it is really necessary”! I plan a journey to Glasgow tomorrow, but I will wait and see what the weather is like.

When we get a chance to-day we are out and about on the estate, keeping our business going and there is lots to do. It’s good to look up and see the occasional patch of pale blue sky, a trans-atlantic jet going west in the afternoon. The waxing moon through some clouds at 7.00 pm. Garden birds are now starting to use our feeders with a vengeance. I do not feed the birds during the summer, surely that must be too artificial, but in the winter they can have as much as they want. Last year they got through 50 kilos of nuts, plus several dozen fat balls. I never know whether or not this is good practice.

Following our 60 hour power cut I begin to think of generating our own power again. The last but one Baron had a splendid scheme of Hydro power in operation at the Tower of Glen Trollaigh during the deprivations at the time of the first war. The scheme provided for surplus energy to be used to heat a marble plunge pool beside the Alt Trollaigh. The baron entered the pool in a snow storm when the then Baroness, Augusta assumed he was in his bachelor apartments on the north stair. Regretably The Baron fell asleep, Ardbeg in hand, and was broiled to perfection. One benefit of the Baron’s demise was that his burial could be delayed until the ground de-frosted.I certainly have the Arbeg to hand as I write, but I only have a vague idea where the plunge pool is, perhaps a ploy for tomorrow? Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.