A lot of Ologies.
A stiff nor'eastly buffets the solid walls of the Tower of Trollaigh, combing old branches from the beech trees; frequent capfuls of rain rattle the library windows and the dogs stay close to Mhairi's Aga. Our swooping, looping Swallows and House Martins seem determined to leave for sunnier climes, I suppose in a way this is good news as if they tarry they will attempt a third brood which always ends in disaster; now the bracken turns and chilly, dark nights lie ahead.
Having complained about stormy weather I must admit that we enjoyed a wonderful, warm and sunny week last week, even stretching to almost unheard of fair weather for the Dalmally show. The gaggle of locals supporting the beer tent even stravaiged out into the relative health of fresh air and hard standing from whence to hurl well rehearsed "bon mot" at lusty young pram pushing mums, whom I am pleased to say gave as good as they got, as in truth the sanity of several of the beer drinkers forebears must be questionable. Glen Trollaigh failed to win a prize in any section although I am certain that if a prize were offered for bizarre vegetables our current crop of carrots would win hands down.
Much of the "trade stand" space is now filled by government agencies whose young staff are mostly ignorant of their employers purpose and are certainly deficient in even the most basic man management skills. I spotted several local worthies stomping off in high dudgeon having failed to get any answer to even their most simple, polite questions addressed to SEPA apart from surly bureaucratic double speak delivered by a youth whose permanently attached sunglasses barely disguised the acne, whilst of course the questioners receivied a leaflet and a free eco pencil. Thank goodness the National Parks Authority failed to show after their appalling and patronising refusal to grant planning permission to the Cononish Gold Mine last week, blood would certainly have been spilled. However I understand that their "no show" was because none of their 22 (yes 22) board members could find the time to represent any creaking ship of state, or possibly the afore mentioned risk of lynching by an angry mob might have put them off.
In fairness I must add that stupid quangos and agencies complete with useless untrained staff did provide some entertainment as the air ambulance evacuated several employees of the Department of Energy and Climate Change with suspected allergic reaction to midge bites; and a number of bearded (of both sexes) members of the John Muir Trust rolled in the dust and bit each other over disputed car parking rights for their Toyota Prii at the end of a long and trying day under the gaze, as JM himself would have seen it, of the great unwashed Argyll hoi polloi.
Despite constant urging to visit Ostemyologists and Kinesiologists to take the unbearable pressure off the NHS, things are pretty bad in the north Argyll glens. House prices tumble, public services are slashed and during the Double Dip even good old Adam & Co, reliable bankers to the toffs, have written to one and all advising that unless they have a quarter of a million of one's wonga on deposit at derisory rates, it will cost £500 a year to flash the Adam "sans limit" gold card and feel the thickly embossed cheques. One suspects that the actuaries have looked into the tea leaves at the bottom of the corporate cup and worked out the client attrition rates, however I for one will be heading to the high street where presumably charges will eventually follow; though I suspect many will cough up for the undeniable comfort and privilege. Personally I am more concerned with bogged campervans, which seem to have chosen 2010 to venture were no campervan has ever ventured before, and whether to use green or black recycled poly to bag up our silage. Whilst considering myself fortunate to have a modest earned income, it is now fairly commonplace in these belegered parts to see a titled personage or two working part time in a retail environment near you as the harsh reality of rural living begins to bite and a few beans are needed for a bottle or so of Krug at Sunday's luncheon party. Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
Having complained about stormy weather I must admit that we enjoyed a wonderful, warm and sunny week last week, even stretching to almost unheard of fair weather for the Dalmally show. The gaggle of locals supporting the beer tent even stravaiged out into the relative health of fresh air and hard standing from whence to hurl well rehearsed "bon mot" at lusty young pram pushing mums, whom I am pleased to say gave as good as they got, as in truth the sanity of several of the beer drinkers forebears must be questionable. Glen Trollaigh failed to win a prize in any section although I am certain that if a prize were offered for bizarre vegetables our current crop of carrots would win hands down.
Much of the "trade stand" space is now filled by government agencies whose young staff are mostly ignorant of their employers purpose and are certainly deficient in even the most basic man management skills. I spotted several local worthies stomping off in high dudgeon having failed to get any answer to even their most simple, polite questions addressed to SEPA apart from surly bureaucratic double speak delivered by a youth whose permanently attached sunglasses barely disguised the acne, whilst of course the questioners receivied a leaflet and a free eco pencil. Thank goodness the National Parks Authority failed to show after their appalling and patronising refusal to grant planning permission to the Cononish Gold Mine last week, blood would certainly have been spilled. However I understand that their "no show" was because none of their 22 (yes 22) board members could find the time to represent any creaking ship of state, or possibly the afore mentioned risk of lynching by an angry mob might have put them off.
In fairness I must add that stupid quangos and agencies complete with useless untrained staff did provide some entertainment as the air ambulance evacuated several employees of the Department of Energy and Climate Change with suspected allergic reaction to midge bites; and a number of bearded (of both sexes) members of the John Muir Trust rolled in the dust and bit each other over disputed car parking rights for their Toyota Prii at the end of a long and trying day under the gaze, as JM himself would have seen it, of the great unwashed Argyll hoi polloi.
Despite constant urging to visit Ostemyologists and Kinesiologists to take the unbearable pressure off the NHS, things are pretty bad in the north Argyll glens. House prices tumble, public services are slashed and during the Double Dip even good old Adam & Co, reliable bankers to the toffs, have written to one and all advising that unless they have a quarter of a million of one's wonga on deposit at derisory rates, it will cost £500 a year to flash the Adam "sans limit" gold card and feel the thickly embossed cheques. One suspects that the actuaries have looked into the tea leaves at the bottom of the corporate cup and worked out the client attrition rates, however I for one will be heading to the high street where presumably charges will eventually follow; though I suspect many will cough up for the undeniable comfort and privilege. Personally I am more concerned with bogged campervans, which seem to have chosen 2010 to venture were no campervan has ever ventured before, and whether to use green or black recycled poly to bag up our silage. Whilst considering myself fortunate to have a modest earned income, it is now fairly commonplace in these belegered parts to see a titled personage or two working part time in a retail environment near you as the harsh reality of rural living begins to bite and a few beans are needed for a bottle or so of Krug at Sunday's luncheon party. Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.
posted by The Baron Trollaigh at
7:56 AM
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