Courage, Confidence and Coconut.
04/26/2008
Dearest Dottie has always given her various motor cars names; these have ranged from the obvious “Van Morrison” to the obscure “Poop”. Therefore it was no surprise that when I returned home with a sturdy German gentleman’s carriage that the poor beast was immediately dubbed “Otto”. Not withstanding the name, I am pleased with my purchase which is exactly the sort of mobile drawing room that I have been looking for; however every control is unfathomable, although thankfully some wizard electronics have set most things to automatic. Locals have not agreed with dearest Dottie’s nomenclature and rather unfairly refer to this honest bodile as “Grandad’s Car”. Otto transported us around during our recent visit to Dorset were we visited the St Edward’s arm of the clan Trollaigh, their surname stemming from their claim to be direct descendants of Edward the Martyr. This is a little unlikely as the poor cove was bumped on the head by some fond relative before his reproductive performance could have been tested. It was good to reacquaint oneself with the aged relatives though some of them were frankly barking including the Capo St Edward who whilst touring the Dorset tourist spots including the immodest Cerne Giant, continually interrupted his i-audio guide with a sharp “Tell that chap to shut up”. Part of the plot was to visit some highly recommended pubs. We were not disappointed with the excellent Lord Poulett at Hinton St George where, to our routine enquiry as to whether the Scallops were dredged or hand caught by divers; the kitchen promptly replied that the molluscs had been mechanically dredged, as it was too cold for the diver! Another pub ticked off the list was the Square and Compass at Langton Matravers, said to have been in the same family for many generations, altogether a much rougher spot with bags of atmosphere and a fine range of Ciders.
On the subject of food and drink I have received a batch of American Girl Scout cookies that are sold as fund raisers in the US. One must suppose that the cookies were baked by the girls themselves or at the very least by a supportive mom and hopefully a cent or two finds its way back into the scouting movement. Scouting in North Argyll has fallen on hard times, so I was particularly pleased to see the images of enthusiasm and flag waving on the cookie packets along with the excellent stirring motto: Courage, Confidence, and Character.
Here in Glen Trollaigh milder, damp weather is with us and two House Martins have arrived, at least ten days later than last year. Cuckoos call and weeds push up as the snow starts to recede on the tops, all up to remind us that lazy winter days are behind us and a few urgent hours must be spent each day in the garden to tame nature’s unruliness. Doubtless the diesels will roar in command to some master plan of the Great Garden designer whom I watch from the library window as she strides across the policies with notebook and pencil. Upon checking last year’s diary I note that I was in my shorts at this time, just before the rain started which did not stop until one weekend in October. Let us hope for a better crack of the whip this year. Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Hope the Kraut wagon runs on diesel Baron - if not you may have got your timing spectacularly wrong.