Time To Service The Lawnmower.

04/18/2005

A grey Monday morning, a light easterly breeze springs up late in the morning and brings an afternoon of rain, but it is mild enough at 10 degrees or so. I returned to Glen Trollaigh last night after five very tiring days working hard at the Country Living Scotland Spring Fair in Edinburgh. I had been drafted in by Diana Drummond to try my hand at exhibitions and it certainly knocked me into shape. The first twelve-hour day travelling to Edinburgh, painting and setting up the stand was a leisurely affair compared to the next four selling days. 6.30 am starts to prepare for the day ahead, seven hours hard chat to customers and then, of course the evenings socialising with other exhibitors, customers and friends past midnight. I am strangely drawn to such intense work, somehow completely unimagined by people attending the events, almost a parallel universe. My masters tell me that it all worked well, and that is the main thing. I have been booked for more of the same in June and July. Dearest Dottie, Lachie and Mhairi seem to have held the old pile together in my absence, the grass is greening, leaves are filling out and more lambs are appearing at foot to their sturdy mothers. I spend a little of the morning reviewing the newspapers that I have missed and quickly realise another advantage to being locked away in an exhibition hall for a few days, the papers are full of absolute rubbish and I shudder to think to whom such nonsense and lies might appeal. Lock me in Glen Trollaigh for a day or two to recharge the old batteries, please, and burn the media for a fortnight. God bless one and all, Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.