CAN YOU GUESS?

Can you believe it? Can you?!! We, at our local Rural, won the heats for a mini-Play competition way back in March of this year. This was lovely, we were really pleased to run home with the cup, make videos and tell all our mates about it. Though a bit daunted to be having to don our costumes again to re-perform, as'twer, we were up for a Challenge!


However.


Last night was the County Final. We were up against some stiff competition and all the ladies were nervous, and held bated breath while the Adjudicator read out his comments, including some bits about the bits he was impressed by.

Looking at him when he arrived earlier in the evening, a flat briefcase attached to his hand, and sporting a neat beard, shiny glasses, red cheeks and maganamous grin, I could tell he wouldn't mind any of our knicker, liquour or stripper jokes.

Oh, we had our champions of champions speeches ready. We'd decided who and in which order the mike would be taken; even the pose we would make around the Winner's Trophy for the undoubtedly glamorous photographs we'd be called to do, despite that it would, no doubt become boring, yawn.


But, can you guess?




We only went and bloody Won!



Autographs R Us, then.*

* When asked if she'd like our autographs, 'F' said 'I knew you before you were famous!'

They're Here!

Yes, the chickens have moved into their spiffing new house and run that Mr T and my bro made this week, Look!

Aren't they gorgeous?!

Although they are over in a large walled garden with two good gates, there is a big, big problem with foxes (the swans on the loch usually lose all or most of their signets to the darned things each year) and weasels, so they need to be secured in a house and run. This will be moved every few days or so, depending on how quickly they eat all the grass. They should start laying in 10 - 14 days and then we'll have lovely fresh eggs!

Though he was a bit wobbly tonight, Mr T insisted on weaving his way over to close them indoors. We had been out for Nanny's best girl's birthday dinner. After she and her mum and dad went home, we kind of got locked in the pub and, well the ale flowed freely, shall we say.

He is tucked up in bed now, gently snoring.

Meanwhile the dog is also in her bed, gently making very smelly farts. Is this because she 'in season' at the moment, do you think?

Not long now...

Well, halfway through April and, it seems, the Summer may just have arrived.

Nanny's best girl returned from her holiday with The Other Side of her family (estranged father and strange grandmother) sporting a lovely pair of high wedge shoes - at aged 10 years of age. I ask you! Great for playing the swingball game for the garden I got her for Easter.

Oh, she is a gem. Staying over for a couple of days, she brings great joy, and a reminder of the disruption a whirly-gig can bring to our lives! Today she came with me to see Mr and Mrs Farmer's new baby lambs, and we arrived just as a ewe was giving birth to her second lamb. Facinated eyes watched as the tiny wee scrap slithered out and, looking blindly about, made it's first 'baaa..'

Somebody who was burning heather caused the local volunteer fire-fighters to take a break from lambing to put the damned buggering thing out, before it continued to sweep along willy nilly and destroy all in its path. The billowing yellow smoke was a tad exciting to see though I shouldn't say so.

Our bedroom is now very dark. Our new V£lux blind has arrived! After over two years with nowt at the window I shall not be awoken by either the full moon glaring at me; nor the bright morning sunlight of, oh, about 3.30am of the height of summer. Bliss.

However, when the blind arrived I eagerly tore open the wrappings, with full intentions to fix up the thing myself. I know it is easy as I watched Mr T fix one up in our last home, with nary a swear word to be heard. Funny thing tho'. When I read the instructions, with pictures and everything, I got a bit scared when I realised I would need a screwdriver and bradawl. Ooh, I didn't want to be doing stuff like that. Did I? This is spooky as, when a younger woman I was, I would think nothing of hammering in a few screws or gaily making holes for where the things would go. But, now I'm not so sure about this stuff, which is a bit weird.

I went out to visit new lambs and calves and left Mr T to do it. I never heard any cussin' or nothin'.

We have, as we speak, plans, drawings, lengths of wood and a man found who can supply other wood and stuff for our Chicken Coop! Hurrah!

And, the name and telephone number of a man who may be able to supply some laying hens. Not long now then...

Sunshine!

We've had a beautiful sunny day here today, really warm enough to sit outside and get a red nose! This is the view from our bedroom window this morning, two fat horses laying down in the sunshine!

But, as you can see, they did stir and wake up - must have been the sound of us giggling while taking the 'photos!

I feel like I've had a fairly productive day as I got a lot of work done for my Open University 'Start Writing Plays' course, which you can find here at;

http://www3.open.ac.uk/courses/bin/p12.dll?C02A176

I am enjoying it, though I am a really crap student. I know that if I was to work through the course, whichever it is, from the start and do all the exercises as they are laid out, I would probably do better than the grade C or, at best, B, I usually get. However, I tend to come across something I am unsure of, get scared, and place my head under the covers, so to speak, in a panic and leave it.
But, today I decided to just go back over what I should have been doing for the last couple of weeks, and actually, got through most of a whole block. With the exercies as well! This has really spurred me on and the ideas are now fizzing around this tatty head of mine.

And,

I had a couple of new pals from WI around last evening, which is something that doesn't usually happen. Oh, we have plenty of lovely visitors from England, but not really anyone local. That's why I joined the Scottish Rural (WI), to get to know people; as we've been here over two years and have not really made any close friends. ah, bless!

This is a very close community and, they are wary of incomers, especially from England. While we haven't experienced open hositility, and people are polite, they haven't been what you'd call welcoming with open arms. I know that people who move to Scotland, Ireland or Wales from England have similar experiences. But, as a white person, it is strange to be the ethnic minority in a country.

Also, because we live in a rural location, well the whole area really, it is very 'white.' Not what we are used to at all. And, to me, it seems a bit bland. There are hardly any black and asian people about and it feels odd.

Don't get me wrong, I know that the 'culture' in England is virtually eroded; what with no Easter or Christmas celebrations as such, for fear of offending people of varying cultures, races and religions. What a crap idea.

At least there is still a strong Scottish culture and, perhaps, they feel unable to embrace others for fear of losing that, not realising what they are missing. But, in the local, local culture it feels like a closed shop. Bit of a lesson for a white person, really, isn't it?

We have begun to make some friends, but these appear to be mainly amongst other incomers too. And, it is a start, I suppose. But, one of the reasons for relocating here was because we enjoy the Scottish people, culture and, well, the scenery is so stunning.

It feels like a waiting game, I suppose, in that people will probably get to know us and begin to accept us as part of the furniture. Unless we are horrible people, but I don't think that is the case.

Well, this started out all sunny and happy, and we are, really. We love being together and working alongside each other, even though we hate each other and row sometimes. But, as there's no-one else to fight with, we have fun making up too!

If you please...

‘I’d love to get a campervan …’ I dream, watching one as it passes the bus we are on.

Miss Manners pipes up ‘You have to hire one first. To see if you like it.’

‘Oh, we nearly got one a couple of months ago …’ I interrupt.

‘There’s no point in spending money on something you don’t like.’ She kindly fucking points out to me.

‘…but, we couldn’t afford it, without dobbing in our 4 x 4…’ I trail off and give up, and stare out of the window, biting my tongue so it bleeds, I tell you, bleeds!

She continues to entertain the rest of our seven strong group of women, all heading for a pleasant lunch in the country, with her infinite bloody wisdom.

Later, that same hour … !

‘Ooh, look at that lovely chair in that shop!’ I point at a delicious chair that, actually, would not fit into my (shitty small) compact and bijou house and I am told,

‘It’s rude to point!’

‘Fuck the fuck off!’ is the retort I wish to give to the keeper of my life and manners, it appears. In sisterhood, you understand.

However, I politely point (see it’s a habit!) out that I am an adult and am allowed to point at whatever and whomever I so wish. Thank you. And, she sulks!

I like good manners. I am often tempted to highlight other people’s, shall we say, misdemeanours and aberrations, but I would never be soooo rude as to do it!

You ask my (grown-up) children. I have learned that advice given is only valuable if asked for and, as kids rarely ask for advice; I have very quickly indeed learned Not To Give Any. Which has an upside in that, when stuff goes wrong for them, as it occasionally does, it's not my fault and nothing to do with me, hurrah! Sadly though, I don’t get the pleasure of saying ‘I told you so!’

Not that I ever would (gawd, I sound horrible, but I’m not, honest. Just, well, honest) we just get the bill, usually.

More usually, though, they surprise us and do, well, rather well, don’t they?