last updated November 29, 2014

Exactly what you didn't expect

There was no understanding of what was going to occur when it happened so it was always going to come as a surprise. The only thing we could be certain of was that it wouldn't happen on the due date. And that was all the tempting that fate needed. Almost at the stroke of midnight on the red-circled Friday of the 42nd week, the cramps came.

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Posted by stupot at 10:52 PM Saturday 29 Nov

Whit?

The predictive text on my phone was really struggling with the Scots Language. I turned it off but then you just realise how bad your writing is with 2cm digits trying to strike 5mm keys. Like an elephant playing piano. It was frustrating me but I realise that it is learning. It's a slow learned but it's mastered quite a few of the basics. Amongst the learned words are wee, whit, cannae, dae, pish, loch, acht… I'm not going to go on: my phone might have learned them but that last sentence was written three times. Maybe the laptop will learn sometime as well.


Posted by stupot at 04:33 PM Tuesday 11 Nov

Something old, Something new, Something simple

The two comfiest pair of trousers I own are well over 10 years old. One set are brown checked X-Large slacks which are a bit thinner than they were but are apparently still dapper enough to gain complements. They're loose and cool - I love wearing them in summer. The other pair are Rohan Bags - Amazingly comfy. I wear them in the office as much as I would in the hills. They're dead breathable, dry out in no time and have a double layer in the arse and knee. I got a new set recently as the old ones are a bit frayed but I'm having to push myself to wear them, because the old ones still work fine, are 'worn-comfy' and I don't have the preciousness you get with new stuff.

Continue reading "Something old, Something new, Something simple "
Posted by stupot at 06:56 PM Monday 10 Nov

Ahhh, Aya, ah, Ow. Aaah. Ah. Jesus.


Posted by stupot at 07:23 PM Sunday 9 Nov

Lismore

Lismore ended up being nothing like I thought it was going to be. Mainly because I had no idea of what to expect. Appin was one corner of the west coast I hadn't quite ventured to. It's an unassuming island I had passed on the Craignure ferry and more of a low lying rock, even if impressively stretched out, from South to North. The backdrop is bold and impressive, accentuated by the crisp autumn light which is fleeting but powerful at this time of year. As you stand on the pier at Port Appin the land mass of Morvern, both laterally and in elevation, is majestic.

We didn't really see the granite super quarry of Glensanda but the kind of added to the intrigue - it felt like it should be in a Christopher Brookmyre book. Meall na h-Easaiche mountain is certainly visible though and evidence of its existence is seen with boats carrying staff and fuel around the head of the island, behind the chef of the hotel who occasionally goes to check the creels at the end of the pier.

Laura is a relatively immobile 40 weeks pregnant and I've got a fresh gash on my left arm with 12 stitches and a gamy ankle. It's safe to say we're not here for the white water rafting. With no mobile reception, we get a telephone call through the bar - which is pleasantly at odds with city life - and arrange to get picked up by Marlene - a family friend of Laura's - the other side of the short ferry crossing.

We meet an interesting chap in oil skins and end up visiting his new build, turf-roofed home. He knows our connection and we realise that everybody know everybody - literally. We're entrenched in detail during our tour of the island which is satisfyingly rural: the tiny boat the Oban dentist commutes on in all weathers, a poster drop-off for the cinema club they have, we hear about the local politics, of land ownership, of the hardships of island life. We look south to Mull and over to Oban, east toward Glen Etive and the wee surrounding islands. North, as we turn around, to the Nevis Range and finally Morvern, the rock I am so in awe of, to the west. We're deeply content and would be happy to stay for a time. Our last wee foray before we start our new jobs as night-watchmen.


Posted by stupot at 11:07 AM Sunday 9 Nov