Grass Cuttings....

I went to the beach yesterday with my brother and his children, my kids all had to go to school, they don’t get the Whit week holiday in Scotland. It seems quite cruel packing them off to school each day when the island is filled with holiday makers, and their cousins are over to stay for the week, especailly today when the sun is shining.

It was good to get a blow on the beach, smell the sea air and listen to the roar of the waves rolling in and the squeals of the children as they climbed the highest sandbanks only to leap into the air and roly poly all the way down the slopes. Kilchoman beach has amazingly high sand dunes so it always a popular choice.

The house is filled with grass today. The happy farmer decided to strim the grass around the paths and hedgerows and give the place a tidy up. He reminded me of a hairdresser, cutting and preening the land as he went. Unfortunately he didn’t sweep up the mess after himself though. He says that the lawnmower will ‘hoover’ it up when he cuts the grass; so as the children happily went from trampoline, to den, to horse, popping in and out to grab chocolate and other goodies as they went, they left a trail of cuttings behind them, up the stairs, through the hallway, through the bedrooms, and all over the house.

The happy farmer went to visit our holiday people in the cottages this morning. We had run out of milk, the children had devoured every last drop, so at coffee time the happy farmer did his rounds of the cottages, milk jug in hand. He returned with a big smile and milk for the coffee. We have had some lovely visitors staying recently. Last week we had a bit of a trauma though as one of our guests had a serious back injury, NHS 24 and doctors and an ambulance later and we managed to get him sorted out. It was a bit of a nightmare in that they have come all of the way from Holland by car and it was obvious that there was no way he would have been fit enough to make the long drive home at the weekend. I was offering to set up camp for them in the living room, as the island’s accommodation is pushed to the limits this week with the festival on. Luckily a friend came to the rescue with their cottage which had just become vacant from a long let, and a few pots and pans and a dinner service later and they were sorted.

The happy farmer has gathered the Highland cows in today to dose them and tag the ears of the new calves. He assures me they are fairly tame now, but I accosted one of the happy potters to go and get the photo to accompany my blog, I still like to keep an ever so healthy distance between me and the cows, even if there is an old dry stone dyke between us.

Until next time…