The farmhouse kitchen has been a hive of activity food constantly coming in and out of the Rayburn providing feasts for all of the troops along the way.
Christmas now seems a hazy blur of excited children. Youngest so thrilled that santa got her just what she wanted, that he had received her letter, the one she wrote weeks ago, and then made extra copies to send, just to make sure he got it. A breakfast of smoked salmon and champagne, Christmas lunch, turkey with all of the trimmings, as children, grandparents, the happy potters, girlfriend and family gathered around the table, a fire roaring in the background.
Then the revellers arrived, the Bt boys, over for a few days work in between the festivities. My brother with his party of ten and a dog…did I mind? He asked me last week! Friends over from the mainland to join us for an island Hogmanay, and so the social gatherings continued, jaunts to the beaches to blow away the cobwebs in the wild and blustery weather, followed by hearty meals, with more mouths to feed than usual.
Forty of us took in the bells at the farm, the happy farmer letting off a stream of fireworks as we all huddled in the cold night air, and then danced until the ‘late’ small hours, managing a few hours of sleep before more first footers began to descend, and so the socialising continued, the food and drink kept flowing, until the ferry arrived to take them home, and the stragglers had to return to work and the school routines took over once more…..
Until next time….