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Here are the heroes - support team and all. Go give.

And they managed to come for our first day of summer. Superb!

The last

and they sat and they stared at the floor, and where many sheep had gone before, now there were few, and fewer, and as they stared at the floor they saw their graves opening before them, for they are the last and they are old. Where once in youthfulness they could gad over hills and shepherd many sheep, now in their twilight they keep the sheep close. And the young turn away and look to quick reward and warm homes and long idle evenings, not for them the unending duties of animal husbandry.

I was there to offer them help, hope, to offer them eternity. Let us find some young buck and teach them all you know of sheep. Let's find a community shepherd, a crofters apprentice, an orra loon. But their long teeth couldn't be drawn from the habitual scratching of the earth, preparing.

But I will not give up. Just yet.

The builders are here - who's counting the days?

Prologue

OK - so read this with care and then make sure you read the footnote and above all come away with the impression that the builder is good and that The Geezer What Drew The Plans isn't.




A few quick snaps to keep you abreast of the exciting developments - there's more too - but on grimey days its hard to get out with the camera - so you'll have to wait until (a few days after) its been sunny.

The build is going well. The build is going well. The build is going well.

Convinced?

I'll try again.

The build is going well. The build is going well. The build is going well.

The build is going well, despite the architectural drawings. We had a lot of problems with the drawings when we were trying to get quotes for the work - a lot of trades complained that the drawings were too complicated, and crowded. But we've found a builder who is happy to work with them, or in spite of them perhaps. And he's doing a fantastic job. We like our builder! He thinks about the plans, he sees inside the plans, anticipates issues and discusses them with us. He is a good builder.

"See that wall there" says Big Chief Builder as he spreads his plans over our morning coffee. "Well it's not there. Don't know what the architect was doing putting it there. Anyway because that wall isn't there and we've put this wall there there is no wall there where it should be really, but not according to the plans. That means that this wall doesn't support the roof so we've had to re-inforce a couple of floor joists."

"ah" we say.

A few days later, having looked at this and that wall on our own we wonder if holding roofs up on floor joists is a good plan, and we remember that building control insisted on an engineers report and that the engineer insisted on a new wall - at precisely the place that the architect (and the man really deserves inverted commas) hadn't drawn it and the builders, naturally enough, hadn't built it. So we worry. We call the builder.

"Are you sure its ok?"

"Oech Aye!"

"Will we get the building warrant signed off? Should we get another engineers report?"

"Good idea".

So there you have it. Another best part of £1000 to go to an engineer who has to drive up from Inverness and, god willing oh allah be praised hey Buddh!, write out a piece of paper that says that even though there's a wall there that was meant its not doing the job it was meant cos it was never really meant to be there. It's safe. Sleep well. Tis fine.

...and all because we used a cheap non-architect because really it's not a difficult build is it?

The build is going well. The build is going well. The build is going well.

Footnote - the saga of the wall

With great gusto and much aplomb the builders tore into the job. They turned up, they cleared out the downstairs, they dug out the floor, relaid it with insulation and then put in the internal walls, two of which were, according to the plans, supporting walls. They put the wall which is the subject of this post where the plans said it should be.

Then they set about upstairs, they got the frames for the roof made according to the specs on the plans, they took delivery and they fitted them. But the Geezer What Drew The Plans hadn't measured upstairs properly. What appears in the plans upstairs is a good metre out of synch with what appears on the plans downstairs, so the wall in question is no longer a supporting wall cos it's no where near under the load of the roof. So the builders have had to try to make this work - and they have kept us informed about their attempts, and they are fully supportive of the need to bring in an engineer for advice, and hopefully sign off the builders attempts to make good a mess made by the Geezer What Drew The Plans.

The worst commute ever?

Takes me about an hour to drive to work - and it is stunningly glorious. I wanted to share it. But If I stopped and took a piccy every time I thought - OOOOOH - I would never get to work. So I only took a piccy when the ipod changed track, or when I had to stop for on-coming traffic, or cows. The road is quite bendy and its tricky handling the camera whilst driving so some piccies are a bit squint. Maybe that adds to the charm?

Living beyond our means

A couple of snippets here from new economics foundation (nef). The question that isn't addressed is: what can we do about it? The answer of course is very simple - consume less and perhaps more particularly in our society - stop consuming things you don't need. Things will eventually crash - and suddenly there'll be a backlash against scientist - "Why didn't they tell us?" they will yell over the clamour of the food riots. Well, we are being told, repeatedly, but no-one is listening. How do we make people listen? The day that marks when humanity starts living beyond its ecologically means fell earlier than ever this year, on 21 August 2010. The fact that we're blowing our annual ecological budget in less than nine months is not based on need, but on overconsumption. As in previous years, nef has found examples of ecologically wasteful 'boomerang' trade: the UK currently exports 131,000 tonnes of chewing gum to Spain, only to import 125,000 tonnes back again. We send 3,300 tonnes of cuddly toys to New Zealand, only to bring another 2,400 tonnes back again.
	An increasingly worrisome aspect of ecological debt is the depletion of the world's fisheries. Now, new research from nef and OCEAN2012 allows us to mark the day when the UK blows its budget for fish consumption: 4 August 2010. The UK does fare better its European neighbours, however. France entered fish debt on 20 June, Spain on 10 May and Germany on 5 May. The EU as a whole would only be able to supply itself with fish from its own waters until 8 July.

Revenge of the coffee gods

So there I was driving to Lairg for the launch of the Sutherland Partnership Action Plan and I was perturbed by a rather unpleasant rumbling in the car. Now the car has only just been serviced - new suspension and all sorts of wongles and stuff - so I was rather upset.

But the best thing to do in such situations is to keep driving cos it's bound to be nothing and it'll go away and if you turn up the music REALLY loud you can hardly hear it, and anyway - what can you do? Look at it? What the f*** good will that do?

But eventually - I mean that noise is getting worse. So I found an unusually large passing place and pulled in determined to stare the noise down into submission.

From some dark recess I decided that I should grab one of the wheels and shake it. Obviously you can't move wheels - they're like bolted on. But for some reason I thought it was a good idea.

And do you know what? It moved. A lot. It rattled. Aaargh. It was almost falling off!

So I found the jack. Took the wheel off. Put the wheel back on again and all was fine and dandy.

The man at the garage apologised in a really not very apologetic way "We all make mistakes" he said. That doesn't convince me too much.

Anyway I got to Lairg. Lord Thurso, my MP, gave the keynote address. He was very impressed by the Sutherland Partnership Action Plan because, he said, it included the word 'action' in the title. He made much of this word action and what a pleasing development it was to see it.

I do wonder sometimes.

Caffeine

So up here in my little office in Durness I have a kettle, instant coffee, but no water. (It's in another part of the building and I don't have keys).

And I'm thirsty.

At lunch time I bought a bottle of fizzy water - thirst quenching stuff.

But now, I have a long drive in front of me and I feel the need for a pick-me-up. ( I just know you're ahead of me on this one).

The solution?

Boil fizzy water for fizzy black instant coffee.

The outcome?

Wholly not recommended - kinda half fizzy acid tasting coffee is a most unpleasant thing. Still it should get me to Lairg.

The builders are here - working away

The builders have been here faithfully working away come rain or shine. Simon doesn't seem to be keeping you up-to-date (he's got a job now, you know!), so I've put together a wee summary of what's been happening to the different parts of the house.

The builders are here - Kitchen/Dairy

These pictures are all taken from the back door towards the dairy. Except for one, which is from the dairy to the back door. They'd left a bit of a mess when they took their 2 weeks off, but now we have frames for all the walls and they've gone back to tidying every day!

The builders are here - Sitting Room

These pictures are all taken from the office towards the sitting room. In the final picture, Ailsa is standing in the dining room.

The builders are here - Office

These pictures are all taken from the sitting room area towards the office/spare bedroom.

The builders are here - Back

The roof of the extension at the back (dairy, kitchen, and bathroom) is all shiny and new, and we have a gaping hole in the main roof

The builders are here - Front

The porch has shot up and the roof disappeared

The builders are here - outside

Here's some shots of trusses, new and old

Random Plugs 2

Here's a wee missive from Dave - who once gave me a birthday present of the promise of a full bike service which I never cashed in. Fortunately, on his way north, he'll be dropping in for a coffee and general refuelling - maybe a good time to get him to look at my crankshaft? (ooh err). Probably not. So if you know him follow the link and give 'im a fiver, and if you don't, a tenner.

You probably didn’t know that my daughter Rosa, now aged 6, was seriously ill last year. She was diagnosed with a brain tumour last October and had a major operation a week later. The immediate response and exemplary care that she got from the Sick Kids Hospital in Edinburgh undoubtedly saved her life. It has been a long road, but Rosa has made a remarkable recovery and is now a happy wee girl starting back at school in Primary 2.

The Sick Kids Friends Foundation has launched a campaign to raise funds for new brain surgery equipment to give children in Rosa's situation an even better chance of recovery. So I have decided to do a sponsored bike ride to raise funds and try and give a little something back. I’ll be attempting to cycle the length of Scotland, from Gretna Green to John O'Groats the scenic way, at the end of September. 450 miles in 5 days through the rain, against the wind, up hills and, errr, up more hills.

Anyway – would you consider sponsoring me? Every little helps.

Please visit

www.justgiving.com/gretna2groats

You can also read my ramblings about my preparations and follow my progress during the ride itself at:

twitter.com/gretna2groats

Random Plugs

Here you go - look. It's in Edinburgh, at the Art School in case you were wondering.

And the poster has the name of the band covered up - how punk is that!?! Fresh from their Brazilian tour about - ooh 15 years ago, they're dusting down the zimmers and hitting the stage once more - and the band is called Bloco Vomit incidentally. Be there or keep a clear head.

That glamour in full

Bligging blogspot is giving me jip. Here is the true glory of gala day.

Goat + clamour = amour amidst the glamour

I think that traditionally village fetes and galas were generally a time to get off your face. But things are changing, albeit very very slowly. Very slowly.

But the goats didn't need beer goggles - they were in love. As soon as the bags puffed up and they scqulurched into action the goats knew that they and bag pipes were just meant to be.

It was a pleasant enough way to spend an afternoon - especially as Jussi and I had remembered to bring some beer and cider with us.

The goats were popular and we only had to run in front of the archery range to capture an escaped goat 4 or 5 times.

It seems lots of crofting wives would like to keep goats, but not crofting husbands. (I mean crofting husbands don't want to keep goats, not that crofting wives don't want to keep crofting husbands, though I guess that's possibly true too).

Chicken wire, Dr Peppers and recycling bins

This time last year the house and grounds were packed with visitors and we won the sandcastle building competition. This year we had no visitors and I was working so it was up to Jussi and the girl to keep up the record. The girl designed a magnificent picture of dolphins leaping from the sand. (Sorry no piccies!)but the judges awarded all prizes to sandcastles that looked like castles. Pah!

Saturday is the Gala Day itself and I think that's another post

.

Sunday is all about racing - rafts, ducks and sheep. We skipped the sheep racing but here are a couple of piccies from the others.

The chicken wire and

Dr Peppers bottles was the coolest but hopeless when it came to the actual race, though most hopeless was the REUSE of the blue RECYCLING* wheelie bin. But see next year? Me and The Girl? We're going for it.

The photo journalism is a bit thin on the duck race cos I had to throw myself into the river to help rescue the ducks - the north wind had kept all the ducks clustered together and when they eventually arrived the official race stewards were

overwhelmed. Jussi was too busy laughing to record my heroism.

*Crofters instinctively understand the waste hierarchy and correctly judged re-use to be more important than recycling

Three tales of Stirling

My consultancy work took me to Stirling this week. The most notable event was that I had a curry. A huge curry. So excited was I at the prospect of a curry that I ordered everything on the menu (well ok not quite) and found myself unable to finish it all. Shame on me.

The journey to Stirling was eventless. The car is poorly so I took the van to Lairg, taking the precaution on Saturday of removing all the baling twine which was holding the exhaust on and wiring it up good and proper. It was - ooooh - nearly half a mile before CLANG SCRRRRRRRRAPE and I had to stop and crawl under the van and take the exhaust off completely and chuck it in the back.

The train journey to Inverness was enlivened by an increasingly drunken oilman who used to work at Dounreay telling me about his experiences of the official secrets act and men in suits coming to his house reminding him that he'd signed it after he attended a consultation event about the future of Dounreay and said a little too much. What it is to live in a free society eh?

Anyway - three tales of Stirling

1 The keys

I was tired by the time I dragged myself into the Golden Lion hotel in Stirling. My head was still somewhere around Aviemore and I was still hearing the percussion of the rail tracks as I checked in and was handed the keys to room 357, on a clearly marked orange fob: '357'. The lift up to the third floor was, erm, somewhat 'quaint' but it got me there and I dragged myself and heavy bag (full of lots and lots of paper) to the room. The key didn't fit the lock. In my fuzzy state I was convinced it was just me being stupid, so I tried and tried. I knelt on the floor before the door and tried to ram the key home. No chance.

So I dragged me and my bags back down to reception again, again marvelling at the 'quaint' lift. The receptionist clearly thought I was a moron but found someone to go back and open the door for me. He took a spare key in the highly unlikely event that it was the key and not me. The lift even managed to lift me and bag and hotel boy.

The spare key worked. He checked the original key - "Nah - this is the wrong key. I tell you it what it is mate - we had a really busy weekend and quite of few keys came of their fobs so we just put 'em all back on as we found 'em, random like."

Great!

2. Golden Lion showers

On Tuesday morning I was sitting in reception and a be-suited woman came to reception to check out. As the receptionist was tapping his keyboard she said in a helpful non-complaining voice: "You know the shower in my room didn't work at all, I really think you should get someone to look at it."

The receptionist looked up:

"Is this stay being billed straight to the company?"

3 Cafe Culture

The weather in Stirling was fantastic. Having spent most of my time there (when not eating curries) couped up in an office the hour or so I had to wait for the train home was very welcome. I found myself a nice cafe with seats on the pavement and settled myself to a pot of tea and a good big piece of people watching. When it was time to leave I went inside to the counter. There was a woman in front of me clearly in need of refreshment. "Please could I have a large black coffee with milk."

It's good to be back home amongst the civilised where black is black and white is white.