Summer Hols

05/12/2005

Shirtsleeve order as the Mediterranean comes to Glen Trollaigh, almost 20 degrees, fluffy clouds and a pleasant southerly zephyr. Dearest Dottie and I prepare for a long weekend away in the Hebrides. A chaotic task as the seven year old motor required major surgery overnight at the hands of Billy Noble at Lix, a man who never lets you down, where are they all now? Dottie is thrown into a complete tiz by the weather which will require three cases of clothes with everything from tweeds, frocks to beachwear, I wonder how much of it will be unpacked! I slip a few bottles of McWilliam’s Chardonnay under the back seat for emergencies, plus a jacket, some socks and a couple of clean shirts. We leave Mhairi in charge of the Tower of Glen Trollaigh and its canine and feline inhabitants, and Lachie to cope with the policies. Lachie will need to watch the water levels for the house as well as the stock as the River Trollaigh is dropping like a stone. With a hearty laugh I recommend whipping or shooting any campers, ramblers or picnickers found over the weekend, Lachie’s eyes glaze over in an alarming way; I do hope he is going to be sensible. Tally-ho for our hols, back in touch next week. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.