A good man.

The entire glen is in shock and mourning the loss of one of our own, the neighbouring tenant farmer.

A horrid accident occurred on Wednesday night and we woke up early on Thursday to the sad news.

Our neighbour was a lovely man, one of the farmers who quietly helped when my husband had his heart attack last spring.

The saddest thing I saw was when the other farmers met here to talk of their shock, how to help, memories of starting primary school, anecdotes, sentences begun but which were not finished...
Of huge men who have taken many knocks in life, openly crying.

Despite the presence of police and other emergency services, other neighbours asked if they could pass the cordons in order to feed the livestock and collies.
That broke our hearts.

Our neighbour had recently and romantically married his sweetheart in a secret and quiet ceremony. None of us knew but word soon gets out and we were all delighted for our friend and his new wife.

Farewell to a good man, good friend and neighbour. We will miss your cheery wave and big hearty laugh. We will miss your wonderful singing and lively wit, your amazing knowledge of cattle and your friendship.
You were like a brother to my husband.

Our love goes to your family. x

Aillidh

My friend's little eight year old girl has been bravely fighting Acute Myeloid Leukaemia and needs a bone marrow transplant.

We ask that people sign up to the Anthony Nolan Trust, especially men between 18 and 30. Someone may be a match for Aillidh.

The Farmer and I are too old at over 50 although the stem cells from our son's birth cord were donated only four years ago. Please look at the Anthony Nolan website to see how you can help.

Aillidh is beautiful, smart and has a wonderful sense of humour.

Her illness came out of the blue yet can be helped.

God bless the child and help her to get better. God bless her parents, siblings and grandparents. Give them all strength.

Strange light

Yesterday, we woke up to no power; the storm had brought down many trees onto the powerlines and we were one of thousands of homes without electricity.

The Farmer rigged up the inverter and we could choose which electrical gadget should go on.

The children wanted the television on, I wanted a heater and The Farmer wanted coffee so we democratically decided to go out instead. It was pretty raw and cold yesterday so we all muffled up well. Rosie looked lovely in her new hat and scarf, our little boy could hardly move in his duffle and jumpers and I looked like a bag lady. The Farmer vanished into the big shed for the day.

The children and I had a good day out - sort of a busman's holiday as we went to one of those farms with a cafe, small pigs and overpriced Emma Bridgewater pottery. I worried as the children went dangerously close to the pottery, immune to sensation with all the layers of clothing on.

We went outside to fuss over the pigs but it was absolutely freezing so we returned home by the back roads.

A tree had fallen on the road and a team of men with powersaws were busy clearing it up. The driver of the car in front of me was an old friend I had not seen for years so hugs and news were had.

When we got home, the power was still off so we rootled about in the dark for things to eat. I set a huge fire but this house is cold at the best of times so we made nests from blankets and quilts in a futile attempt to keep warm.

Rosie spotted the strange light on the hill first. I thought it was a planet until it moved.

The neighbourly thing to have done was to muffle up, gather all the children together, climb the hill in pitch darkness and see if anyone was lost.
The common sense thought was that this was madness, we would fall in bogs, get lost and end up on the freezing hill all night.

I wonder if it was the shepherd although the light was right at the steep edge of the hill. I am going to phone him today and find out if it was him. It is too steep for a vehicle and the light was too big for a torch plus it did not waver like a torch would.

The light was static for about 10 minutes then vanished.

The double thingy is my hand shaking, partly from cold and partly as I had to expose the shutter for 7 seconds but it is an odd light.
It never appeared again all evening but the electricity did a little later on.

I would love to know what was on the hill last night.

Welcome 2012!

Happy New Year to you all!

2012 has been gentle in it's infancy so far and touch wood.

The weather was not gentle, far from it...a few more garden renovations, limbs moved from the places they were dumped by the last gale, Nature changed her mind and decided the limbs would look better over there with an added swing and a few plant pots....

The Farmer and our eldest son are out with the chainsaw cutting some of the limbs up. We all complained bitterly when some 'logs' were hastily brought in during the storm, chucked on the fire, went up in a huge blaze and then the smell hit. An old telegraph post had been chopped up and the smell of creosote cleared the room. It lingered and refused to leave.

We could not open the windows because of the gale so took to sitting in the kitchen (where the fumes from the ancient oily Rayburn were only slightly less evil).

We have been slobs this year, so far.

Toys for small boys are being played with by small boys, painting by numbers painted carefully by Rosie, old copies of the Scottish Farmer read happily by the Farmer and I am attempting circular knitting for the first time. Badly.

We had a lovely First Foot from the neighbouring farmer.
The entire family was so chuffed to have a visitor that we plied him with food and drink, listened to all his stories - who had been born, married and died (I had no idea who half the poor deceased were as he called them by their farm names as is common here), new calves and the struggle to bring them into the world, gossip then after his system was 'well oiled', some cracking jokes which made me blush then shoo the children out of the room for a few minutes!

Pledges were made between The Two Farmers to go to the market together more often and possibly one or two local social events (bowling - sorry but it does not float my boat).

This is that time of year when you really have no idea what day it is, nor do you care. The children have melted back into the home 'routine', school and nursery forgotten, sleep times longer, eating when hungry and playing when they want.

It is wonderfully peaceful.

I was chuffed and shocked to find that I had lost 2 1/2 kilos over Christmas, despite initial piggery. I still have no appetite at all but no doubt it will come back with bells on.

Scotland seems to be slowly wakening up after her wild shehannigans over the festive season and is taking her time to get back to normal.

I'm ok with that, right now.

Slante!

And a kick in the pants to 2011

What an unpleasant and difficult year it has been.

The final sting in the tail was to present the entire family with Norovirus or similar so we are seeing out the horrible old year whilst flopping on the sofa like beached fish, drinking copious amounts of water, unable to eat.
Even my hair is sore.

PieDog and Gracie are delighted to feast on all the special Christmas/New Year food and our pathetic attempts to walk them up the hill.

The good things this year have been incredible support, letters, emails, phone calls and generosity when our story went 'public'.
Your support has meant a lot to us and helped us stand up to the bullies when resolve was failing.

Things are nowhere near resolution yet but the New Year will see a new fight for our home/water and I will update with news.

The 'I hope you fall in a dung heap' awards 2011 go to the following:-

Elmer Fudd - you are not Rambo. Grow up, learn manners and how to close a gate. And stop telling lies.

Ditto to your 'mentor'.Times twelve.

Postie - stop swearing at and trying to kick the dog.

Richard Lochhead - for so many reasons.

The entire Tory government- for so many reasons times twelve plus VAT.

So, off you go, 2011, quickly. Glad to see the back of you.

Here is a glass (of bottled water until stomachs have settled) to you all.

I hope 2012 is a better year, so to your health, happiness, love, home and prosperity.

Let's hope it is good. x

Two mornings after the night before.

Happy belated Christmas!

Today is that floaty time when all the fuss and preparation of Christmas is over, you are not entirely sure which day it is as it feels like a Sunday yet the time holds in limbo until the New Year is over.

We feel a little like these sleepy creatures, today.

Our barley was collected from the farm on Christmas Eve, so it was both exciting and a relief to see it go.
Christmas Eve is also our eldest son's birthday so we celebrated the beginning of a new year with him as well as the end of the harvest for us.

When I look back to this time last year, I am thankful for the very mild weather we are having now and pray that it stays like this. Yes, the wind has artfully rearranged the garden and even moved the shed but the mild weather ensures that the taps have not frozen and moving around is so much easier.

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas.

Our Christmas was quiet and I admit to crying a lot this year because I missed my Mum and Dad even although they have been gone a long time.
I cried with overwhelming emotion at the kindness of the strangers who sent us gifts, so many beautiful things... so much thought and consideration from people who remained anonymous yet who sent love with every present.

Thank you so much.

It was as if my Mum was there as I unwrapped my presents. The same love and thought, the same choice of lovely scents, the warm mittens and scarf to protect against the winter winds...

The gift of Love.

We are nearing the end of a very difficult year and I know that our family will have an almighty fight on our hands next year - how I long for all these fights to end.

Life is bittersweet - the love and support of strangers and the battle against...well, you know...

I hope the strong winds blow away the negative and blow in the positive. May it sweep away all the blights and stains and the ferocity die down to a gentle breeze.

And may it carry Love and Peace to you.

A toast

We sort of missed St Andrew's Day yesterday.

There was a lot of research to do, sheds to prepare for the cattle coming in for winter, rough weather to contend with. It was really rough yesterday, icy cold wind and sleet plus a driech grey light which could be used as a new Farrow & Ball paint colour on posh parlour walls.

It was late in the evening once The Farmer and I sat down. Our little boy was asleep in bed so we could relax a little.

I could not relax at all and felt frozen. Yesterday was a bit full on and the sleet had chilled me to the bone.

The Farmer brought me a hot toddy and a woolly blanket. The toddy was thick with honey, boiling hot and the strong smell of whisky told me there was a generous measure.

I don't like whisky, truth be told and am not a drinker but a hot toddy is different as it warms you like no other substance.

So here is a belated toast to all Scots, their kith and kin and to those abroad.

Here is to the future of our country, where we can pride ourselves on equality, where we can dilute our dram with clean water, where those without homes can be housed in some of the thousands of empty houses.

Here is to progress in land reform and all those who work tirelessly to campaign for our land to be freed from those who do not look after it properly and exploit land and Man.
Here is to the proper death of feudalism. Freedom of land and people.

Let us drink to the prospect of citizens able to provide their families with food grown from their own piece of land and a weaning from the dross sold in the large supermarkets.
To city children enjoying the countryside and learning new skills.
To the farmers of the present and the future. To all those who need our produce and support us.

Take a large drink to the toppling of the grotesque statue which dominates Golspie and which symbolises the very source of the wounds which never heal. People do not need a daily reminder, it is history. It is etched on their souls. Time to bury that entire vulgar episode and all those who were and still are responsible for clearing people from their land, plant rowan trees on top and move on.

I am toasting to a very different Scotland than the one I see now. I am drinking to the one that Wendy Wood told me to fight for. She told me it was worth fighting for and never give up the fight, regardless of the dangers.
It might benefit some of our government to reread her work as they appear to have selective memories regarding the people of Scotland and the land.
It would be wise of them to read Andy Wightman's "The Poor had no Lawyers" and consider making it part of the National Curriculum. To listen what the man has to say and implement his proposals.

The toddy went down in one followed by a small shiver from the effect it had on my frozen body.

If only something could act so well on our frozen land. Defrost it from the stasis it is in.

"Wha is like us"?

Wha indeed.