Dry Stane Dykes
12/05/2005
Heather the Weather delivers some fine conditions, clear, dry and a bearable 6 degrees or so, with just a touch of frost overnight. Ideal for starting landscaping for dearest Dottie, I have engaged one of Argyll’s finest Dry Stane Dykers to construct new garden walls whilst Lachie and I operate machinery to keep the Waller supplied with raw material. All this leads to me slipping surreptitiously into Dottie’s personal boudoir for a wonderful, muscle easing bath at 5.00pm, accompanied by an ice bucket complete with a light Chenin Blanc. In Dottie’s Valhalla, I discover the answer to my struggle with current affairs, as the Chenin Blanc evaporatives I stab the on button of D’s Sony radio, I am instantly surrounded by the wail for pre-digital Medium Wave broadcasting, a momment or two of clear news followed by bursts of Icelandic trawler chatter mixed with Radio Free Uzbekistan, absolute bliss. I scrub vigorously in Diana Drummond’s new chemical-free NAKED products and finish the chilled CB without the blood pressure suffering the usual evening news spike.
My scribble cannot pass without a reference to the Beastly Brown’s super cock-up of our fragile, over heated economy. Beastly Brown has for some time been know as “Down The Pan Man” amongst the captains of industry, and now he has played a splendid forehand to the delight of those, including myself, who have invested heavily in the Caspian. Kazakhstan is the new Texas where there is no talk of Beastly Brown’s double taxation; indeed there is so much fucking gas that we are pumping it back down the oil wells to facilitate the flow of crude oil of a higher grade that the Gulf, and enough of it to last for several generations, not even an American storm trooper in sight. I have kept the best news until last. As the Diamond T gas fleet plies the Caspian and Black Seas, we enjoy the protection of a benign dictator, loved and supported by his people, whose territory is the fifth greatest in the world. Wait for it, he has indicated to me that if the Baron Trollaigh were to move to Kazakhstan he would be made a substantial grant of estate lands and the state would cover the cost of a new Great Tower of Glen Trollaigh. My god, new lands, new powers, new everything! Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.