Phew, the bandage survived a night of boredom. Fingers crossed for tonight.
Today was lovely, a crispy, sunny, properly autumnal day, with a tang of woodsmoke in the air. After a great walk with Bertie (scuff, scuff, scuff through the dead leaves) I rushed around vaccuuming everything while simulateously installing and using Norton Systemworks. The virus scan found eight infected files and fixed six of them. Two were Trojan Horse viruses, which have been quarantined. Whatever that means.
I've also ordered Partition Magic, which should arrive tomorrow. I'm going to divide my hard drive and run a partition on Linux. It's something I've been meaning to do for years -- I did a Unix course a while back specifically to prepare for it. Ah, long winter evenings spent hunched over a humming computer, what fun.
Tomorrow Fiona's coming for lunch, hence the vaccuuming. I don't know how my house gets so dirty. Ok, possibly because my dog and I track mud all through it and I only clean up once every couple of months. I also dusted and cleaned the toilet and handbasin. I'll go to the 24-hr supermarket on the way home, and wash the dishes in the morning.
31 October 2001
30 October 2001
Grumble grumble grumble.
Last night I got home to a scene of devastation. Well ok, a mess. Bertie had chewed off his Very Expensive Bandage, and also torn up a magazine. There were bits of bandage everywhere (it had four layers, including the gauze), and he was still trailing the remnants, the bits that were so firmly taped on he couldn't get them off.
Grrr.
So I snipped off the tattered remains of the bandage and ripped another strip off the old sheet to bind up his wounds. He insisted on gnawing at it and licking his cuts, so I had to resort to smacking (sharp tap on the nose, nothing too brutal).
I forgot to set the alarm and didn't wake up until after the local vet's morning session had ended (10am). I phoned the Linlithgow branch and got a 3pm appointment. So we trailed all the way over there in the afternoon (it's only 15 minutes by car, but still...) and he was a major hit with everyone. "Aren't you lovely?" they cooed, "aren't you beautiful?" It was the same vet, Fiona, and she's a fan too. She did another bandage, purple again, four layers, and gave me a huge plastic head collar to stop him ripping it off. £20 please, kaching!
We raced home, and I fitted the collar. I didn't have time to take photos, so I'll have to put it on him again -- it has to be seen to be believed. He had to have a huge collar because his head is so long and he's very flexible. But because his head is also small, it has to be very tight so he can't get it off. The first problem came to light when he tried to turn round. Clonk. As soon as the giant cone hit the wall he stopped. I managed to coax him round and he approached his food dish. Clonk. Second problem: Even with the food dish right under the cone and his head right down, he can't reach the food, because the neck is too tight to let the cone slip back.
You've never seen such a sorry dog.
I'd already missed one bus and couldn't miss another, so I quickly took the collar off and told him (HAH!) not to chew off his new bandage. He probably started on it the minute I was out the door. If he has damaged it he's wearing the cone, even if it means him going hungry.
Last night I got home to a scene of devastation. Well ok, a mess. Bertie had chewed off his Very Expensive Bandage, and also torn up a magazine. There were bits of bandage everywhere (it had four layers, including the gauze), and he was still trailing the remnants, the bits that were so firmly taped on he couldn't get them off.
Grrr.
So I snipped off the tattered remains of the bandage and ripped another strip off the old sheet to bind up his wounds. He insisted on gnawing at it and licking his cuts, so I had to resort to smacking (sharp tap on the nose, nothing too brutal).
I forgot to set the alarm and didn't wake up until after the local vet's morning session had ended (10am). I phoned the Linlithgow branch and got a 3pm appointment. So we trailed all the way over there in the afternoon (it's only 15 minutes by car, but still...) and he was a major hit with everyone. "Aren't you lovely?" they cooed, "aren't you beautiful?" It was the same vet, Fiona, and she's a fan too. She did another bandage, purple again, four layers, and gave me a huge plastic head collar to stop him ripping it off. £20 please, kaching!
We raced home, and I fitted the collar. I didn't have time to take photos, so I'll have to put it on him again -- it has to be seen to be believed. He had to have a huge collar because his head is so long and he's very flexible. But because his head is also small, it has to be very tight so he can't get it off. The first problem came to light when he tried to turn round. Clonk. As soon as the giant cone hit the wall he stopped. I managed to coax him round and he approached his food dish. Clonk. Second problem: Even with the food dish right under the cone and his head right down, he can't reach the food, because the neck is too tight to let the cone slip back.
You've never seen such a sorry dog.
I'd already missed one bus and couldn't miss another, so I quickly took the collar off and told him (HAH!) not to chew off his new bandage. He probably started on it the minute I was out the door. If he has damaged it he's wearing the cone, even if it means him going hungry.
29 October 2001
Bertie's been in the wars -- he has a bad cut on one back leg, plus lots of little cuts and scrapes. It happened on Friday night, I think he ran into some barbed wire. He didn't "say" anything, it was only after we got home that I noticed. I called the vet for advice, she said wrap it up as best you can and get it seen to in the morning.
She also said I should let him sleep in my bed so I could check he wasn't licking at it all night. So after I'd bound up his wounds with torn-up sheeting and an old sock, I patted the bed invitingly. Huh? I lifted his front legs up onto the bed. I'm sorry? I heaved from behind (he is very heavy when confused), and finally he lumbered up and stood there wobbling, looking puzzled. You want me to sleep here? Oh, ok.
When I prised up the duvet and squeezed into the tiny space left, he rolled his eyes, gave a huge sigh, struggled to his feet and jumped back down to the floor.
He got a nice purple bandage from the vet the next day (plus biscuits and lots of fussing), and he's been very good about it, so he doesn't need a bucket on his head thank goodness. He's confined to staid on-leash walks, not riotous gambolling.
Another shock today at work: my card wouldn't give me access to the parking garage, even on a Sunday -- so presumably that means I've been banned. Huh. What a pain. I will definitely be getting a bus in and a taxi home then, courtesy of the company.
She also said I should let him sleep in my bed so I could check he wasn't licking at it all night. So after I'd bound up his wounds with torn-up sheeting and an old sock, I patted the bed invitingly. Huh? I lifted his front legs up onto the bed. I'm sorry? I heaved from behind (he is very heavy when confused), and finally he lumbered up and stood there wobbling, looking puzzled. You want me to sleep here? Oh, ok.
When I prised up the duvet and squeezed into the tiny space left, he rolled his eyes, gave a huge sigh, struggled to his feet and jumped back down to the floor.
He got a nice purple bandage from the vet the next day (plus biscuits and lots of fussing), and he's been very good about it, so he doesn't need a bucket on his head thank goodness. He's confined to staid on-leash walks, not riotous gambolling.
Another shock today at work: my card wouldn't give me access to the parking garage, even on a Sunday -- so presumably that means I've been banned. Huh. What a pain. I will definitely be getting a bus in and a taxi home then, courtesy of the company.
26 October 2001
Bertie's new coat arrived in the post today. Life must be utterly baffling for domestic animals a lot of the time. A man, a stranger, rings the doorbell, owner opens door, takes parcel off man, shuts door. Man goes away. Owner opens parcel. No food -- disappointing -- but a small blanket. Owner puts blanket on baffled dog, does up straps, talks away in usual babble. Dog is too hot but can't get coat off. Finally owner undoes coat and takes it off.
What was all that about?
The verdict is that the coat is a bit big, but looks just the thing for snowy mornings. Nice and thick and warm, with a fake sheepskin lining. The stomach strap is slightly in the wrong place, will ... ahem ... probably need washing after each walk. Never mind.
Nasty shock when I got to work this morning: the parking garage was being policed. Name and job description? Sorry, you don't have garage access, go away. Yikes. I had to zoom across the road to park, then go and retrieve my car before that carpark closed at 6pm, pay £6 and then repark downstairs. What a hassle.
Because of starting work early I walked Bertie early too, and hit rush-hour. There was only one major problem, when Bertie took a major dislike to a collie-looking bitser.
What happened was B raced over to meet him, while I whistled and called. The other dog thought I was calling him and came running over to me. I think Bertie thought this dog was going to attack me, and rushed to my defence. He was really aggressive, growling and chasing this poor thing around while I danced after him trying to grab his collar and the other owner tried not to freak out. Finally got Bertie under control, whew. Then we met another little dog, this time wearing a muzzle. Not because it bites dogs, the owner said, but because it bites boys. Well, that's all right then! The muzzle came off and the two played happily together. Finally we met the Italian Spinoni (or whatever) and his lovely owner & had a chat. There were other dogs as well, it was really busy.
On Wednesday, my day off, we went to Blackness, had a very long walk nearly all the way to Abercorn. It was low tide so easy to walk along the shore. There had obviously been a storm-driven high tide, there were piles of seaweed up on the grass esplanade, and lots of new flotsam. Lots of shoes, for some reason, and many milk crates. I'd just read a magazine article about digital cameras, and walked along taking mental snapshots.
On the way back Bertie took off after a goose, chased it way, way out towards the water. Splocketta splocketta splocketta through the mud at high speed. I whistled and back he came, splocketta splocketta splocketta splocketta. His whole undercarriage was thickly plastered with grey, gritty mud. I managed to get him to plunge into the swollen burn, but he was still a mess. Back home I rinsed him off in the backyard, which he hated.
What was all that about?
The verdict is that the coat is a bit big, but looks just the thing for snowy mornings. Nice and thick and warm, with a fake sheepskin lining. The stomach strap is slightly in the wrong place, will ... ahem ... probably need washing after each walk. Never mind.
Nasty shock when I got to work this morning: the parking garage was being policed. Name and job description? Sorry, you don't have garage access, go away. Yikes. I had to zoom across the road to park, then go and retrieve my car before that carpark closed at 6pm, pay £6 and then repark downstairs. What a hassle.
Because of starting work early I walked Bertie early too, and hit rush-hour. There was only one major problem, when Bertie took a major dislike to a collie-looking bitser.
What happened was B raced over to meet him, while I whistled and called. The other dog thought I was calling him and came running over to me. I think Bertie thought this dog was going to attack me, and rushed to my defence. He was really aggressive, growling and chasing this poor thing around while I danced after him trying to grab his collar and the other owner tried not to freak out. Finally got Bertie under control, whew. Then we met another little dog, this time wearing a muzzle. Not because it bites dogs, the owner said, but because it bites boys. Well, that's all right then! The muzzle came off and the two played happily together. Finally we met the Italian Spinoni (or whatever) and his lovely owner & had a chat. There were other dogs as well, it was really busy.
On Wednesday, my day off, we went to Blackness, had a very long walk nearly all the way to Abercorn. It was low tide so easy to walk along the shore. There had obviously been a storm-driven high tide, there were piles of seaweed up on the grass esplanade, and lots of new flotsam. Lots of shoes, for some reason, and many milk crates. I'd just read a magazine article about digital cameras, and walked along taking mental snapshots.
On the way back Bertie took off after a goose, chased it way, way out towards the water. Splocketta splocketta splocketta through the mud at high speed. I whistled and back he came, splocketta splocketta splocketta splocketta. His whole undercarriage was thickly plastered with grey, gritty mud. I managed to get him to plunge into the swollen burn, but he was still a mess. Back home I rinsed him off in the backyard, which he hated.
23 October 2001
I ordered Bertie a fur-lined waterproof walking-out coat today, a bargain at £14.95, plus postage. Mind you, I'm thinking maybe I'll just fix him up a treadmill at home to save the embarrassment of walking him. Today he barked hysterically at a mentally handicapped teenager, who was understandably terrified of him, and at a one-year-old girl in a pushchair, who looked extremely worried.
I've got tomorrow off, hurrah. Tasks for the day include going up into the loft in search of the packaging for my old scanner, which I'm donating to Chad and Leslie. I also have to track down the scsi card, which may still be in the old computer. Once I've found everything I'll go round there next week some time and try and install it for them. Fingers crossed that I don't end up wrecking the machine.
Another task is going to see Moulin Rouge. Doesn't sound hard, does it?
I've got tomorrow off, hurrah. Tasks for the day include going up into the loft in search of the packaging for my old scanner, which I'm donating to Chad and Leslie. I also have to track down the scsi card, which may still be in the old computer. Once I've found everything I'll go round there next week some time and try and install it for them. Fingers crossed that I don't end up wrecking the machine.
Another task is going to see Moulin Rouge. Doesn't sound hard, does it?
21 October 2001
Jan's Gifts shopping online: Greyhound Dog Coats - The Very Best Quality Walking Out Dog Coats, dog rain coats, kennel dog Coats and yard dog coats
Then again, maybe I'll just buy one ...
Then again, maybe I'll just buy one ...
Greyhound Manor Crafts This is great -- instructions for making a coat for Bertie. He'll be needing one very soon. Greyhounds don't have an undercoat, so they suffer from the cold.
Work work work work work.
Work work work.
I had yesterday off, but it was blighted by the weather and by earache.My ear had kind of cleared up after the last bout, but the infection flared up again on about Wednesday and by Friday, which was when I went to the doctor, it felt like someone was driving a knitting needle into my brain. A hot knitting needle.
I got stronger ear drops and some antibiotics as well. Today is the first day it's felt like it was starting to get better. On Friday night I was nearly weeping with pain, despite taking as many painkillers as I safely could. Today I feel much, much better, plus I can hear better.
I had planned to take Bertie for a make-up fun walk on Arthur's Seat yesterday but the rain put paid to that. In fact when we went out for our regular morning walk, it was raining so hard that Bertie turned round and tried to shove his way back into the house. Later I pulled a mean trick -- I took him with me in the car, and he had to stay in it while I collected Anthea and we had lunch at Plaisir de Chocolat. It was packed out, so we ate sitting on the terrace. It wasn't too cold, despite the rain.
After that I stopped at Pets At Home to stock up on dog food. Bertie finds it exciting but a bit overwhelming. So many interesting smells! So much food! I pissed him off by making him try on coats (all far too small) but everyone he met made a huge fuss of him and he scored lots of treats.
Generally though, the expedition wasn't up to snuff and he refused to get out of the car when we got home. Poor thing.
This is the last of this stint of nearly 12-hour days spelling for my boss, thank goodness. It hasn't been too stressful though (apart from the earache). I'm doing it again on Thursday and Friday.
Work work work.
I had yesterday off, but it was blighted by the weather and by earache.My ear had kind of cleared up after the last bout, but the infection flared up again on about Wednesday and by Friday, which was when I went to the doctor, it felt like someone was driving a knitting needle into my brain. A hot knitting needle.
I got stronger ear drops and some antibiotics as well. Today is the first day it's felt like it was starting to get better. On Friday night I was nearly weeping with pain, despite taking as many painkillers as I safely could. Today I feel much, much better, plus I can hear better.
I had planned to take Bertie for a make-up fun walk on Arthur's Seat yesterday but the rain put paid to that. In fact when we went out for our regular morning walk, it was raining so hard that Bertie turned round and tried to shove his way back into the house. Later I pulled a mean trick -- I took him with me in the car, and he had to stay in it while I collected Anthea and we had lunch at Plaisir de Chocolat. It was packed out, so we ate sitting on the terrace. It wasn't too cold, despite the rain.
After that I stopped at Pets At Home to stock up on dog food. Bertie finds it exciting but a bit overwhelming. So many interesting smells! So much food! I pissed him off by making him try on coats (all far too small) but everyone he met made a huge fuss of him and he scored lots of treats.
Generally though, the expedition wasn't up to snuff and he refused to get out of the car when we got home. Poor thing.
This is the last of this stint of nearly 12-hour days spelling for my boss, thank goodness. It hasn't been too stressful though (apart from the earache). I'm doing it again on Thursday and Friday.
17 October 2001
My days off (two, after working only one night after my holiday!) passed in a flash. Spent Monday talking on the phone and Tuesday shopping for new clothes. I bought a few things, ranging in size from Small (12-14) right through to 18. And one of the 18s (a plain black v-neck jumper) is the tightest garment I purchased. The best buy was a wonderful shiny chestnut brown puffer jacket. Mutton dressed as lamb, but what the heck. Old lady clothes make me feel ... old.
I've been at work since just after 11am and it's now 9.15pm, my poor dog!! He'll be hysterical when I get home. I'm on this shift right through to Sunday. Saturday off, whew.
I've been at work since just after 11am and it's now 9.15pm, my poor dog!! He'll be hysterical when I get home. I'm on this shift right through to Sunday. Saturday off, whew.
14 October 2001
Polbain -- The Travelogue
Sunday: Left everything to the last minute so we (Andrew and I) set off about an hour later than planned. We stopped in Aviemore on the way up for a late lunch and to walk Bertie. We met a Great Dane, who made Bertie look terribly dainty for a change. The Dane was too Great to deign to make friends. Also accosted by a woman whose aged greyhound died a few months ago. She had a bit of grief therapy fussing over Bertie, who was deeply sympathetic.
Arrived at the cottage just before dark to be greeted by the owners: "We were worried about you!" They gave us a loaf of bread and showed us round -- what a wonderful find this cottage is. A nice size, extremely comfortable, gorgeous views, all the amenities and right across the road from a very well-stocked shop. Perfect. We took Bertie on a wander then settled down with beer and sandwiches for a good old chinwag.
Monday: Woke up about 10am to find Andrew had already taken Bertie for a walk. After breakfast we went out again, walked along to Achiltibuie where Andrew booked us in to the Summer Isles Hotel for a slap-up meal. Back home for lunch, then off in the car on a tiki tour of the area. Andrew stayed at Rief as a boy but he couldn't find the place. We carried on to Inverkirkcraig, where we walked along to the waterfall and back. No rain!
The scenery is stunning in this part of Scotland, and even better in the autumn - the bracken and heather covering all the hills turns a warm rusty russet. The hills are seamed with outcrops of ancient rock and dotted with lochans that are a stunning deep lapis blue on sunny days.
Back home we washed and changed and went out to dinner. Yum. We sat in a deep sofa in front of a blazing fire leafing through a long, long wine list trying to decide, while sipping pre-dinner drinks and nibbling breaded mussels and mushroom parcels. Then we were ushered through to a comfortable dining room and given our first choice of wine and bowls of thick, delicious smoked haddock chowder. That was followed by goujons of langoustine and monkfish. Which was followed by melt-in-your-mouth roast duck. Then came the cheese trolley, groaning with giant truckles. And finally the sweet trolley, swoon. At last we were back in the lounge for coffee and one final little treat - chunks of fudge. Mmm. The service was superb too -- friendly and efficient.
Tuesday: Time for Andrew to return to calving duties on the farm. We attempted a walk but it rained so we headed south in the car. Stopped at Ullapool for lunch at the Ceilidh Place -- very nice -- and then drove like mad to get to the farm in time to see his folks before I headed back to the cottage. John was there but Jenny was delayed at the museum. Bertie had a great run in an empty field -- he'd not been allowed off the lead because of the sheep wandering everywhere. Jenny arrived just before I left. Drove madly back and got there before dark. Nice lazy evening in (after walking Bertie) watching TV and reading.
Wednesday: It was a nice day, so I dragged Bertie off up the hill behind Polbain for lovely views. The ground is boggy, even right up in the hills - you have to be careful where you put your feet. Peat hags are the worst; they look like solid ground but you can find yourself up to your hips in rotten peat if you're not careful. Peat makes for "clean" mud though, it's not sticky. It was windy on the tops but not too cold.
Came back down for lunch then we were off again on a great long expedition, walking and taking pictures. Lots of low-flying fighter jets as usual. This is one odd feature of hill-walking in Scotland -- you walk for hours, find a gorgeous remote glen, sit to enjoy the tranquility and BLAM! a fighter streaks over your head at the speed of sound. I managed to miss the day's heaviest rain by being in the Highland Stoneware pottery in Lochinver at the time.
An aside here about Bertie's experiences: he loved every minute of the holiday. He loves being out in the country; maximum wildlife, minimum people. He became completely hysterical a couple of times, once in the livingroom when he noticed there were chickens in the field below the house. I put into practice some dog-training techniques I'd seen on television with great effect. After that he would just stand whimpering quietly as he watched the hens running round.
His other outburst was in the car, when he saw sheep walking around loose. Owowowowow!!! Look at that!! But once out in the open air he was more circumspect. After all, sheep are about his size and he was outnumbered too. The local dogs were all manic collies, snarling and carrying on, no friendly city types at all. There was a cat up the road, very thrilling! Also cows, goats, geese, deer and of course rabbits. Most frustrating not getting to chase anything, but lots of wonderful smells. I used the extending lead so he could at least pretend he was running free.
On the way home from the big outing I had a flat tyre drama. The tyre picked up a bolt, which was lucky because it made such a racket I stopped before the tyre actually went flat. I jumped out and watched all the air hiss out of it. Bah! I had my mobile and it was even charged up -- but I was out of network. I called the rescue service from a nearby phone box and it was fixed and we were on our way before dark, hurrah.
Thursday: I woke to the sound of gale-force winds and lashing rain. Lingered over breakfast but finally had to take Bertie out. We walked down to the bay between Polbain and Achiltibuie and back, about an hour in all, and we were drenched through! Spent most of the rest of the day indoors reading while the storm raged. At one point the owner, Iain, popped over to say the woman from the shop had rung to say my car window was open. Village life, eh!
I went for a few more walks with Bertie -- one quite long one round towards Altandhu, another at night, and another after Andrew phoned to say he'd just seen the Northern Lights. I hadn't seen them earlier but Andrew said sometimes they were strongest after midnight, so I went out later - nothing. It was too cloudy. What a shame! I stood peering at the sky trying to convince myself I could see them, but no.
Friday: Time to go home. The street was a hive of activity: I was leaving, and Iain and Eva were off on their holidays, and then the bank van arrived and so did all its customers. Worse than Princes Street.
I had to get back in time to greet a visitor, Fiona, so didn't linger around in the area. I did stop in Ullapool to buy Pinky a birthday present and card -- Ullapool has the best gift shops I've seen anywhere. And I stopped in Aviemore for fish and chips and to post Pinky's present. Got home with just enough time to unload, walk the dog and start cooking a meal.
I want to go baaaaaaaack.....
Sunday: Left everything to the last minute so we (Andrew and I) set off about an hour later than planned. We stopped in Aviemore on the way up for a late lunch and to walk Bertie. We met a Great Dane, who made Bertie look terribly dainty for a change. The Dane was too Great to deign to make friends. Also accosted by a woman whose aged greyhound died a few months ago. She had a bit of grief therapy fussing over Bertie, who was deeply sympathetic.
Arrived at the cottage just before dark to be greeted by the owners: "We were worried about you!" They gave us a loaf of bread and showed us round -- what a wonderful find this cottage is. A nice size, extremely comfortable, gorgeous views, all the amenities and right across the road from a very well-stocked shop. Perfect. We took Bertie on a wander then settled down with beer and sandwiches for a good old chinwag.
Monday: Woke up about 10am to find Andrew had already taken Bertie for a walk. After breakfast we went out again, walked along to Achiltibuie where Andrew booked us in to the Summer Isles Hotel for a slap-up meal. Back home for lunch, then off in the car on a tiki tour of the area. Andrew stayed at Rief as a boy but he couldn't find the place. We carried on to Inverkirkcraig, where we walked along to the waterfall and back. No rain!
The scenery is stunning in this part of Scotland, and even better in the autumn - the bracken and heather covering all the hills turns a warm rusty russet. The hills are seamed with outcrops of ancient rock and dotted with lochans that are a stunning deep lapis blue on sunny days.
Back home we washed and changed and went out to dinner. Yum. We sat in a deep sofa in front of a blazing fire leafing through a long, long wine list trying to decide, while sipping pre-dinner drinks and nibbling breaded mussels and mushroom parcels. Then we were ushered through to a comfortable dining room and given our first choice of wine and bowls of thick, delicious smoked haddock chowder. That was followed by goujons of langoustine and monkfish. Which was followed by melt-in-your-mouth roast duck. Then came the cheese trolley, groaning with giant truckles. And finally the sweet trolley, swoon. At last we were back in the lounge for coffee and one final little treat - chunks of fudge. Mmm. The service was superb too -- friendly and efficient.
Tuesday: Time for Andrew to return to calving duties on the farm. We attempted a walk but it rained so we headed south in the car. Stopped at Ullapool for lunch at the Ceilidh Place -- very nice -- and then drove like mad to get to the farm in time to see his folks before I headed back to the cottage. John was there but Jenny was delayed at the museum. Bertie had a great run in an empty field -- he'd not been allowed off the lead because of the sheep wandering everywhere. Jenny arrived just before I left. Drove madly back and got there before dark. Nice lazy evening in (after walking Bertie) watching TV and reading.
Wednesday: It was a nice day, so I dragged Bertie off up the hill behind Polbain for lovely views. The ground is boggy, even right up in the hills - you have to be careful where you put your feet. Peat hags are the worst; they look like solid ground but you can find yourself up to your hips in rotten peat if you're not careful. Peat makes for "clean" mud though, it's not sticky. It was windy on the tops but not too cold.
Came back down for lunch then we were off again on a great long expedition, walking and taking pictures. Lots of low-flying fighter jets as usual. This is one odd feature of hill-walking in Scotland -- you walk for hours, find a gorgeous remote glen, sit to enjoy the tranquility and BLAM! a fighter streaks over your head at the speed of sound. I managed to miss the day's heaviest rain by being in the Highland Stoneware pottery in Lochinver at the time.
An aside here about Bertie's experiences: he loved every minute of the holiday. He loves being out in the country; maximum wildlife, minimum people. He became completely hysterical a couple of times, once in the livingroom when he noticed there were chickens in the field below the house. I put into practice some dog-training techniques I'd seen on television with great effect. After that he would just stand whimpering quietly as he watched the hens running round.
His other outburst was in the car, when he saw sheep walking around loose. Owowowowow!!! Look at that!! But once out in the open air he was more circumspect. After all, sheep are about his size and he was outnumbered too. The local dogs were all manic collies, snarling and carrying on, no friendly city types at all. There was a cat up the road, very thrilling! Also cows, goats, geese, deer and of course rabbits. Most frustrating not getting to chase anything, but lots of wonderful smells. I used the extending lead so he could at least pretend he was running free.
On the way home from the big outing I had a flat tyre drama. The tyre picked up a bolt, which was lucky because it made such a racket I stopped before the tyre actually went flat. I jumped out and watched all the air hiss out of it. Bah! I had my mobile and it was even charged up -- but I was out of network. I called the rescue service from a nearby phone box and it was fixed and we were on our way before dark, hurrah.
Thursday: I woke to the sound of gale-force winds and lashing rain. Lingered over breakfast but finally had to take Bertie out. We walked down to the bay between Polbain and Achiltibuie and back, about an hour in all, and we were drenched through! Spent most of the rest of the day indoors reading while the storm raged. At one point the owner, Iain, popped over to say the woman from the shop had rung to say my car window was open. Village life, eh!
I went for a few more walks with Bertie -- one quite long one round towards Altandhu, another at night, and another after Andrew phoned to say he'd just seen the Northern Lights. I hadn't seen them earlier but Andrew said sometimes they were strongest after midnight, so I went out later - nothing. It was too cloudy. What a shame! I stood peering at the sky trying to convince myself I could see them, but no.
Friday: Time to go home. The street was a hive of activity: I was leaving, and Iain and Eva were off on their holidays, and then the bank van arrived and so did all its customers. Worse than Princes Street.
I had to get back in time to greet a visitor, Fiona, so didn't linger around in the area. I did stop in Ullapool to buy Pinky a birthday present and card -- Ullapool has the best gift shops I've seen anywhere. And I stopped in Aviemore for fish and chips and to post Pinky's present. Got home with just enough time to unload, walk the dog and start cooking a meal.
I want to go baaaaaaaack.....
3 October 2001
Only an hour and a half to go and I'm on holiday, whew. I've been looking longingly at the OS map and printing out walking guides. There are cliff walks around the Coigeach peninsula apparently --- you can go all the way round.
My Argentine boss gave me a tape of gaucho music yesterday (Jose Larralde) and I listened to it on the way home and in to work today. It's wonderful, sad and passionate, with acoustic guitar backing, but makes me feel oddly happy. Cowboy music is the same the world over -- though I think the gauchos are a bit more poetical than Hank Wangford. On the other side is a woman singer, Mercedes Sosa. She has a fabulous voice too, sings jazzy Latin political ballads.
My Argentine boss gave me a tape of gaucho music yesterday (Jose Larralde) and I listened to it on the way home and in to work today. It's wonderful, sad and passionate, with acoustic guitar backing, but makes me feel oddly happy. Cowboy music is the same the world over -- though I think the gauchos are a bit more poetical than Hank Wangford. On the other side is a woman singer, Mercedes Sosa. She has a fabulous voice too, sings jazzy Latin political ballads.
2 October 2001
Hurrah, I remembered to call the gas people about the leaky radiator and a man came reasonably promptly and fixed it in five minutes. I've got a service contract, so there wasn't a charge, and he showed me how to fix it myself if it happens again. (Which it apparently will, due to the conformation of my system. Something to do with gravity.)
It was mildly annoying having to hang round for four hours waiting for the gasman, but I gritted my teeth and got stuck in to doing rotas, and also did the dishes, so it wasn't time wasted.
Big surprise up on the meadow this morning: a man in a tractor was mowing it! That's fine, I guess they have to every now and then. But did they have to cut down the wild rose bushes? Bertie was startled but not unhappy -- plenty of gorgeous new smells and of course a perfect race-track. Vroom!
He's unhappy a lot at the moment -- gale force winds are spooking him out. High winds make a whining noise at the back of the house and sometimes blow things over out in the street. He barks at it to make it go away -- not a good idea at 3am.
It was mildly annoying having to hang round for four hours waiting for the gasman, but I gritted my teeth and got stuck in to doing rotas, and also did the dishes, so it wasn't time wasted.
Big surprise up on the meadow this morning: a man in a tractor was mowing it! That's fine, I guess they have to every now and then. But did they have to cut down the wild rose bushes? Bertie was startled but not unhappy -- plenty of gorgeous new smells and of course a perfect race-track. Vroom!
He's unhappy a lot at the moment -- gale force winds are spooking him out. High winds make a whining noise at the back of the house and sometimes blow things over out in the street. He barks at it to make it go away -- not a good idea at 3am.
1 October 2001
Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes Preserve -- I visited this spot ten years or so ago. I couldn't remember the name but today finally found it in a web search. I love the internet!
A bland kind of day. I decided at the last minute that I need to be more organised. Ran around the house cleaning and tidying. Forgot to phone gas people about leaking radiator. When I discovered it the power plug for the phone was lying in a giant puddle -- oops. I turned off all the radiators and the central heating and the hot water but when I left home it was still dripping. I put the roasting dish under it, it's the biggest thing I could find that would fit under the drip. It'll be slopping over about now.
So ... my little burst of organisation may have been counter-productive, but I'm serious about it. The scope for disorder is one of the serious disadvantages of having a big house. In a little flat I couldn't be that disorganised, and generally I knew where stuff was even when I lost control. Now, with dozens of places to put things, finding them again is time-consuming and frustrating.
Has anyone seen my monocular? No, I didn't think so. I haven't seen it since I went to Mull with Trevor & co just before New Year. It's gone.
So ... my little burst of organisation may have been counter-productive, but I'm serious about it. The scope for disorder is one of the serious disadvantages of having a big house. In a little flat I couldn't be that disorganised, and generally I knew where stuff was even when I lost control. Now, with dozens of places to put things, finding them again is time-consuming and frustrating.
Has anyone seen my monocular? No, I didn't think so. I haven't seen it since I went to Mull with Trevor & co just before New Year. It's gone.
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