Sometimes It Is Obvious
10/22/2006
I read in the newspapers that 35 different flora have bloomed in a false Spring throughout the English counties. This has, of course, brought out the pundits by the bucket full claiming, on the one hand, that we are all doomed to death from starvation, sunburn and avian flu. However, on the other hand we are in for the hardest winter for a generation with many feet of snow, ice and accompanying death and destruction. One way or another it seems that we are all going to pop our clogs. Here the autumn colours in Glen Trollaigh are coming into their full glory and the red deer rut seems to be calming down, our shortening days remain mild and mainly dry.
Gardener’s World, one of my favourite TV programmes spent this week’s broadcast giving advice on lifting and dividing herbaceous plants, planting bulbs and great beds of Wall Flower for the Spring. This will be of great interest to the gentle gardeners of the Home Counties, however here at the Tower of Glen Trollaigh this time of year is spent topping long grass and rushes, chasing fat sheep, probing the depths of reluctant septic tanks and digging disappointing potatoes from a muddy swamp. This must be the often talked about difference between Town and Country.
“Madonna and Child”, rant the tabloid headlines, knocking the Macca v Mills divorce settlement out of the news for an hour or two. There is a considerable fuss about trans-race adoption and indeed all things inter-racial at the moment as all sorts of people who should know better dip their toes unadvisedly in this PC soup. I am certainly not going to follow their example except to recall a story that shows how sensible folk will often overlook the obvious in these touchy times. A decent English couple living in Eire have been muttering about litigation because their application to adopt in Eire was refused on the grounds that the couple were “not Irish enough”. On the face of it, this does seem a little hard, however, the Little Sisters, whom God preserve, had used this phrase to politely draw attention away from the good old fashioned objection to the application because the prospective parents are not Catholics. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
can you read this?