A Happy New Year?

Even I have to admit its been a wonderful Christmas. Almost every surviving Trollaigh relative as been to stay, indeed a couple are still with us, ignoring the now obvious and urgent hints that it is time to leave. I have to admit that at times it has been a bit of a struggle as our water supply which I constantly monitor froze solid, Mhairi's AGA is barely holding out, several header tanks are dry, my beloved shed doors distorted and jammed, chickens started to moult and refused to lay, the washing machine gave up, as did the dish washer; all our water filters clogged as one, the log splitter is kaput and to add insult to injury my faithful Land Rover shed her clutch just when I needed her most. Priorities become an interest as while I sweated blood round the clock to keep some water available for baths, or to provide enough heat to roast a Turkey or four, several guests became quite shirty when their i-phone apps failed to wake them up in time for the traditional New Year's day shoot.


Because airports were shut down by snow I had to make an after midnight dash to collect family from Central Station, Glasgow on the Saturday before Christmas. I have since been told that was the most popular night of the year for office parties and the sights I saw were not to be seen on any old Saturday night nor for the faint hearted, suffice to say Santas of every gender and dress code seemed to be either vomiting or fornicating in public; and visible blue blubber seemed to stave off frostbite rather than sensible layers of woolly clothing. I have to salute the Glasgow police who were most helpful as I tried to unravel the frankly hopeless train arrivals board and I was very impressed by gangs of Glasgow City Council workers who were, even at that hour sluicing down the ghastly mess on the pavements. Certainly if this is the level to which the Hoi Polloi have sunk, god help us all as one can only assume that these "persons" were bank clerks, civil servants and SNH employees of some standing and training, perhaps even a PhD or two amongst the chip throwers.


In The Tower of Glen Trollaigh tradition reigned supreme with 10 year old card sharps distracting the old from comparing the ting of sherry glasses with the ting of Christmas Tree decorations and all guests are to be commended for ignoring the rather "one sided" profile of the this year's Great Christmas Tree of Trollaigh, not helped by several strings of lights being more off than on. Several guests brought their fair share of generous gifts and goodies for which many thanks; although one codger could only produce from his welly a bottle of second rate red, the top of which had already been unscrewed and a good slurp removed before arrival.


Snow lay deep, frosts froze, landscapes were Alpine and carols spread their magic with candles and lamps held high; as far as I could tell the whole family seemed to survive without too many sense of humour failures, or at least everyone had the good grace not to show it! Of course in this bleak midwinter we have not caught sight of a single council service, no road gritters, no bin men etc. although the new tactic of mid management civil servants promoted to the level of their incompetence is to trumpet to the highest the "heroes" who are giving their all to provide us with everything we could possibly want, apart that is from any sort of result, but remember that they are working night and day doing their best, ha ha! Although a mole has admitted that some buffoon decreed that school heating systems should be switched off over the Christmas holidays to save some dosh.One has to wonder if he or indeed she will survive to draw the enchanced pension package. As VAT rises to 20%, road fuel heads toward £1.50 per litre and beer breaks through the £3 a pint; I can safely say it has been one of the best Christmases I have ever had, so let's give three cheers to a bloody good 2011. Yours aye, Archie The Baron Trolliagh.