Muirburn
04/20/2005
MESSAGE FROM THE OLD HOUSE. A CANCELLATION MEANS THAT THE OLD HOUSE IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR ANY WEEK BETWEEN 30TH JULY TO 20TH AUGUST.
After another good night’s sleep, I am greeted by bright sunlight rising over the ridge on Ben MacDonald to the North of MacDonald’s Nose blazing onto the Great Bed of Trollaigh at 7.45 am. This is a milestone of the spring and very welcome. The downside is that we only have eight more weeks until the longest day! Fabulous spring weather stays with us all day, with clear blue skies, high pressure and unheard of 16 degrees heat. A brisk easterly breeze keeps us on our toes. I feel in a much better humour today and have a chance to hear a lot of balanced media cover on the new Pope. A lot of comment on whether or not the liturgy is, or is not the actual word of God and how this can be interpreted in view of the ghastly problems in the third world. Can we honestly believe that that AIDS in Africa is a result of immorality and therefore a mortal sin? What about needle stick injuries etc? I have to spend most of the day tied to the desk however; I do manage an hour or two outside indulging in one of my favourite spring jobs, Muirburn. For those of you unfamiliar with this ancient art, it is all to do with setting fire to dead, white grass to allow new grass to sprout. I have met and seen some masters of this craft over the years, and I do fancy that I am a bit of a dab hand at it myself. It is all to do with careful control of flame in variable wind. Today is no exception as I follow the example of many Trollaighs by setting flames along a long windward slope. As the flames leap higher dearest Dottie interferes, claiming that some of her garden is at risk. Lachie and I have everything well under control until the wind rises and changes direction. I can just make out the sirens of the Fire Fighters above our frantic efforts to divert the inferno from the formal front garden; fortunately, the hoses are turn on full blast just in the nick of time. As I remove my smouldering tweeds, I am treated to some quite unnecessary abuse from both Dottie and Mhairi about my incompetence. However, it was such fun, and the dogs loved it. Cheers! Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.