Dalmore No MOre

04/22/2005

MESSAGE FROM THE OLD HOUSE. A CANCELLATION MEANS THAT THE OLD HOUSE IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR ANY WEEK BETWEEN 30TH JULY TO 20TH AUGUST.

Wonderful day once more! Plus 17 degrees, clear blue skies from dawn until dusk, when a full moon pops over the high ridges to the south east of us. We endure a brisk easterly wind, no rain, and the entire glen, waterlogged for many months’ starts to dry out, surprising to see the colour of the earth change in front of ones eyes. Once more, our day still revolves around office work, when we desperately want to be out and about in the grounds. The radio is full of election fever and we are trying to make the right voting decision. To everyone’s surprise, we have always been floating voters. My natural feeling points me towards the Tories as we know the local candidate well, but by default, I am tempted back to the SNP who are making all the right social-democrat noises, but is this really a wasted vote? We certainly completely distrust “new labour” and the “liberals”, horrid lying oicks to a man. Dearest Dottie is on red alert for tomorrow’s visit by the Neil Munro Society, Mhairi is brewing up vats of soup and Lachie is artistically manipulating our farmyard piles of tin sheeting and old tyres into some semblance of respectability. My task is to produce some decent wine, without burrowing to far into the good stock.  Fortunately, a petting farm in Comrie has infected most of their guests with something horrid following contact with new lambs, so we hope that our urban visitors will not indulge in mutton molestation of any variety, however, one never knows! Dottie, Mhairi and Lachie have attacked the spring-cleaning, in the course of which they have uncovered some whisky with “only a little left in the bottom of the bottle”. One of these dregs is the 78 Dalmore that I have been instructed to “finish off”, poor fools. I raise the Dalmore, Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.