Mull Musings

Salt, snow and soup!

2010-02-25T13:58:00.000Z

It's been nearly two months since I lasted posted and then it was on a glorious Christmas Day when we enjoyed fabulous weather, albeit we were in the grip of a real biting and prolonged freezing winter wonderland. When this wintry weather started in the middle of December, John and I were away on one of our mini excursions enjoying some much needed R&R along the west of Scotland and I remember not long after that someone made the comment that this winter would last well into the month of March. The commentator was pooh-poohed at the time but as March knocks on our door next week, they will be proved right.

The weather on the mainland has been exceptionally bad with snow and sub-zero temperatures; here on Mull and in Fionnphort particuarly, we haven't really had the snow but the freezing conditions we have had are unpredecented especially with it lasting over such a long period of time.

But what has prompted me to poke my nose out and come out of hibernation today? Well believe it or not it was a news item on BBC Breakfast this morning about the salt content of soup. The nation's dieticians recommend that an adult should not be consuming more than 6g of salt per day and that typically we consume around 9g a day which has health implications for us all - not least high blood pressure, strokes, heart disease and cancers! Interestingly some soups contain more than our recommended daily allowance of salt in just one serving and can contain more than ten times the amount of salt than in a packet of ready salted crisps!!

This led me to think about and ask what soup are these people eating? And then it dawned on me - of course, shop bought tinned soup! What a travesty!!

Soup is the simplest, most nutrious and healthy food you can eat and yet somehow folks still mess it up and turn it into a health hazard.

Well the simplest solution is to make your own soup!

I can think of any number of reasons why you should and I can't think of any reason why you can't. So I'm not interested in hearing any 'Yes but, No but' answers, comments or smart alec responses.

Making soup is easy, quick, nutritious, healthy, satisfying, tasty and most importantly cost effective. You know what's going in to it (including the salt content) and its a great way of eating your 5 portions of veggies a day. You don't need a degree in food engineering to make soup, you just dig around in the bottom of the fridge (you know, the section where the veg is supposed to be housed) and make use of what you have. It's a great way of using up those less appetising bits of veg at the back too.

I don't think I ever ate home made soup until I moved here. The main reason was because soup was plentiful and convenient in tins. However once here, when I started to look at the ingredients on the can and compare the price of what I was paying, to what I was actually getting, I started to ask whether or not I was paying more for the tin (which incidentally you are) than the food in it. And why was I paying more for something that was being thrown away (ie the can), even if it was being recycled, when in actual fact I could make the soup myself and not throw anything away!!

And so several years ago I started on my journey of discovery on how to make my own soups.

They aren't fancy soups. Occasionally I look for a recipe for some inspiration but most of the time I do exactly what 'it says on the tin' - excuse the pun. I open the fridge and take a wee peek inside to see what needs using up and then I make the soup. Favourites include leek and potato, carrot and courgette, basil & tomato soup (sometimes using fresh tomatoes, sometimes using tinned!), my stir crazy soup (literally anything there is to hand) and my green soup (I use all the green veggies I can find - including the curly bits of cabbage leaf that should really be composted).

And with this freezing damp weather, soup is welcomed by all. With a pot on every day home made soup is food for the soul. And just to help you on your way, I have made sweet potato and leek soup today which has been cooking whilst writing this and this is how I made it:

Ingredients: half a large onion, 2 sweet potatoes, 4 pathetic weedy leeks, some light olive oil (I prefer to use butter but I'm trying to lose weight), 4 teaspoons Marigold Swiss Vegetable Bouillon (available in most food shops) and about 2 litres of boiling water (a kettle full in my house)

This made a large pan full and will probably last the 2 of us for 3 days.

Gently heat the olive oil in a large pan, add the chopped onion and leeks, and cook for 5-10 minutes over a gentle heat with the lid on until the veg has softened. Add the peeled and diced sweet potato. Add 4 tsp of bouillon to a pint of boiling water, stir and add to the pan; top up the water in the pan with the remaining boiled water from the kettle, add seasoning to taste, stir and bring to the boil. Simmer gently for about 30 minutes or until the sweet potato is soft. Taste test and add more seasoning if preferred. Switch off the heat and allow to cool for about 30 minutes. Add to a blender and blend until smooth. Tip into a bowl and enjoy.

Go and make soup :-)

Merry Crimble & Bah Humbugs!

2009-12-25T18:04:00.000Z

Christmas this year has been very different for John and I, as all of our four children have spent Christmas elsewhere. I am not a great fan of Christmas, mainly because I dislike the commercialism but also because Christmas is supposed to be about just one day of the year when we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, and yet it seemingly lasts for 4 months or so! I also resent the fact that the retail sector seem to think that Christmas is a legitimate reason to ambush us from August onwards with as many creative ways as possible to relieve us of our hard earned cash! Consequently for some years now I have been saying I can't wait until the kids have left home so I can spend the festive season doing what I want to do (which is actually very little) without the pressure of Christmas Day.

Initially we were going to spend Christmas with just the two of us, plus our dug Megan. Interestingly though, despite my protestations and reluctance over Christmas I seem to have spent an inordinate amount of time (since the end of October actually), in the kitchen preparing for this one special day organising, making lists, browsing through recipe books, shopping and cooking as many home made goodies and festive treats as I possibly could. What a shame the kids weren't going to be about to enjoy them!

However the jungle drums must have been beating as, at the 11th hour, I received a phone call from my Dad to tell me that his planned boat trip away for the festive season had been cancelled due to adverse weather and an alleged crew mutiny (of one person...........namely, my Dad!). My lovely Dad decided to make the humongous trek up from wintry Bedfordshire on Tuesday and stay with us for the festive season instead. He thinks he is doing me a favour by coming up to help us to eat all the festive goodies; I think he's probably right! Hoorah for crew mutiny's!!

Anyway, as I write this post we have already spent a good part of the day out walking working up an appetite for our Christmas Day celebratory meal. The turkey is in the oven along with the sage & onion stuffing, chipolatas & bacon and the roast potatoes. We will start with crab pate on Arran oatcakes, lobster & smoked trout salad and if we still have room in our tummies, there is a drunken Scots Drambuie Trifle to finish with.

Merry Christmas everyone - hope you have all had as lovely a day as we have.........even without our much loved children xx

An alternative Christmas Cake recipe

2009-12-11T12:39:00.000Z

Living on an island means that I don't get to see my family and friends as often as I would like to and so I love receiving emails from them to keep in touch. I enjoy catching up on their news and views and in particular I love their wacky jokes and sense of humour.

I have one friend who has an especially unusual sense of humour and I suspect that after reading about my antics in the kitchen recently preparing for Christmas she thought I needed to lighten up a wee bit and so she sent me this recipe for her alternative Christmas cake.

My friend assures me that it works because she has tried it. I will leave it to you decide for yourself!

Ingredients:

* 2 cups flour
* 1 stick butter
* 1 cup of water
* 1 tsp baking soda
* 1 cup of sugar
* 1 tsp salt
* 1 cup of brown sugar
* Lemon juice
* 4 large eggs
* Nuts
* 1 bottle Brandy
* 2 cups of dried fruit

Sample the brandy to check quality.

Take a large bowl, check the brandy again, to be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink. Repeat.

Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.
Add one teaspoon of sugar. Beat again.

At this point it's best to make sure the brandy is still OK.
Try another cup... Just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy.
Break 2 eggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick the frigging fruit up off the floor.
Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers just pry it loose with a drewscriver. Sample the brandy to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt. Or something.
Check the brandy.

Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, or something. Whatever you can find.

Greash the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.
Don't forget to beat off the turner.

Finally, throw the bowl through the window.
Finish the brandy and wipe counter with the cat.

Bingle Jells!

If all else fails then try Delia's Classic Christmas Cake

Cooking a la Seaview

2009-11-25T17:41:00.000Z

As much as I love my food (especially when prepared and cooked by someone else), cooking for others comes a wee bit more reluctantly. As a new mum many many years ago I did what most mums do and I started off with the best of intentions - breast is best, home made pureed vegetables when weaning etc etc - none of this prepared jar and dried food for my precious wee ones.

After a few years however, reality kicks in and when working full time on shift work, those pre-prepared oven ready meals and take-aways start to look mighty appealing especially when I was so tired arriving home from work I couldn't bear the thought of cooking a meal from scratch. And it doesn't help when I regularly forgot to get something out of the freezer before I left for work anyway!

Over time I found the skills I did have as a cook (and I was taught how to cook by my mum) were rapidly vapourising into the ether along with microwaved TV dinners. A sad sad state of affairs indeed.

This all changed however, when I met and married my husband John several years ago. John's background is in catering, he loves food and as he runs a B&B having the skills to cook is an absolute necessity. Needless to say my own depleted culinary skills were yanked up by the boot straps and I quicky learnt to distinguish one end of a pan from the other...........and oh yes, how to cook scrambled eggs so that they are light and fluffy and don't bounce like rubber round (and sometimes off) the plate.

We have very different styles when it comes to cooking. John has a tendency to replicate the Swedish Chef's style (remember The Muppet Show) which he describes as creative and intuitive with a hefty dose of Scottish flair, ably assisted by a wee dram of the old amber nectar! My style on the other hand is very precise and measured with great attention to detail. I refer to it as cooking like Delia; John refers to it as being 'very English'!!

Needless to say the kitchen can at times be a hotbed of differing opinions but we do work incredibly well and produce some cracking meals. Although we live in a remote place and don't have access to mainland shops and other food outlets, it does mean you have to make do with what is in the fridge, cupboard, or larder. The use of fresh local products means you end up cooking with the best of ingredients and what a difference this makes when it comes to producing flavoursome healthy meals.

Now, the original point of me writing this post was to say that I was I have been making good use of my time today (due to the appaling weather outside) and I have been busy in the kitchen making Delia's Christmas Chutney. This year I have made a real effort to make as much of my Christmas food as I possibly can, including my very first Christmas cake and although buying the ingredients has at times been stressful (remember no Tescos here on the island), the time, effort and results have been very worthwhile.

I just hope there is something left to eat for Christmas!

Myths, legends and rocket science!

2009-11-24T17:46:00.012Z

As December and yet another Christmas rapidly approaches I thought it was time to update my blog before the year is over and I wonder (yet again) where has the time gone?

Sufficient time has elapsed for me to update Mull Musings on how the geology course went. I started out so excitedly with such high hopes and expectations - here was something new I could learn about, something for the grey matter to focus on, something relevant to my life and my everyday surroundings. I was hungry for information.

The Isle of Mull has such a fascinating and diverse landscape. So much so that it is known as a 'mecca' for geologists from all around the world. To the likes of you and I, the landscape is just pure magic - wee dips and valleys, panoramic mountains and mysterious glens, stunning lochs and forests, remote white beaches and undiscovered coves. To the geologist, the land and rock formation is pure science with ancient rocks and minerals in the making over zillions of years.

And this unfortunately is where for me it all began to go horribly awry.

Having tramped round the hillsides for a few years marvelling at the landscape, I genuinely thought my imagination would be captured and my enthusiasm for facts, figures and science would know no bounds. How sadly mistaken was I. The course was run and led by a very capable and extremely knowledgeable geologist who in a former life taught geology to degree level at university. The range of knowledge of the course participants on what had been promoted as a 'leisure learning' course ran from doctorate holders (in anthropology) to simple folk like me (in life).

It was a no brainer from the start! The course facilitator was on a hiding to nothing really and I felt quite sorry for her. How do you pitch your material to students from opposite ends of the educational and knowledge spectrum? It was without a doubt the most intense and complex whistle stop tour of any subject ever known to man. And can I say the most mind numbing - I would arrive home after the 2 hour session each week and couldn't work out if my head was suffering from brain freeze because of the cold or the subject matter.

Sadly I only lasted 4 weeks out of the 6; the balance was finally tipped in favour of bailing out when I spent a freezing and wet day on a 'field trip' on one of my favourite beaches in the middle of March trying to muster up excitement about the different rock formations. I don't think the fact that I found rock pooling more entertaining won me any favours with the course teacher and I bowed out disgracefully the following week.

And the moral of the story?

Well for me, I learnt three things. First of all, never be afraid to step outside your comfort zone and learn something new. Secondly, never be afraid to accept you have made a mistake and say 'thanks but no thanks'. And finally, if you enjoy facts, figures and mind boggling bamboozling science - fine. However, for me I prefer the magic and the romance behind the myths and legends surrounding this beautiful and ancient island and I didn't want the mystery and the love affair I have with Mull to be stripped naked and laid open to scrutiny by science.

Give me pixies, fairies, giants and little folk any day.

Winter Entertainment on the Ross

2009-02-01T20:48:00.007Z

How has January already come to an end? I'm still getting over Christmas and recovering from the New Year!

It has been nearly 14 months since I posted anything on Mull Musings, so I don't suppose I should be too surprised that January 2009 seems to have disappeared completely under my nose - I lost the whole of 2008 in a wee bit of a blur.

Well what I can say about January on Mull?

Events have really been controlled by the weather I suppose and like most places the weather is a constant source of gossip, conversation, speculation and conjecture. Unpredictable to say the least - a wee bit like life really.

In between the showers, the torrential down pours, the face peeling sidewinder hail storms, arctic northerly winds and wintry westerly gales, the buffeting easterlies and the stormy southerlies, there have been brighter moments which have allowed us to get out and about, dispel the cabin fever and breath in some fresh air.

Funnily enough, one of the many questions we are regularly asked by summer visitors, is "What do you do in the winter months?" Some folk really do lack imagination and cannot comprehend a life without artificial stimulus and the need to spend a pile of money! Believe it or not, in between the decorating (boo hoo), walks with Megan (yee ha) and the long lies (most mornings during the winter) there are a surprising number of diverse activities and pursuits to engage in all around the island.

This week by chance I was asked by a neighbour who was undertaking a project on the history of the village hall (which up until the 1970's was the local primary school) as part of her degree (in Gaelic) just what was the village hall used for, her question uncovered an amazing variety of uses including: yoga, Tai Chi, country dancing, the Brownies, Poetry Evenings, Story Telling Nights around the Fire, weddings, birthday parties, Christmas parties, Burns Suppers, PTA fund raising events, Crofters meetings, Film shows, soup kitchens, Church Meetings, local produce and farmers markets, local elections, celebration of life memorial services, WRI meetings, Art Courses, RYA Skippers Courses, Sunday School, Mendelssohn Concerts along with residential facilities for groups and organisations who come each year to stay for a week or so.

I was as pleasantly surprised as my neighbour, not least because despite the remoteness of our community on the island there is a wealth of talent out there, many of whom steadfastly refuse to give in to the couch potato brigade, remote control, political drivel and cheap quick fix television masquerading as entertainment.

And just to prove a point, despite sub-zero temperatures and a wind swept drive to the next village I enrolled on a short course entitled The Geology and Landscape of Mull & Iona.

Watch this space.................................................

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree...............

2007-12-07T21:23:00.000Z

I wonder if the planets have all been out of sync and in conflict this week - browsing round the blogs it would seem many of us have had a really rotten week.

Touch wood I haven't suffered from this lurgy (although 2 out of the 3 children were ill with it last weekend); but I did have the misfortune to perform a rather painful ballerina split in my wellies whilst walking Megan on Monday lunchtime and ended up pitching face first down the hill into a water filled stinky peat bog and sprained my right ankle and left wrist in the process. It doesn't matter where you are, how much pain you are in or what you look like - your first thought is always 'I hope no-one saw me'

Megan thought it was a hoot - 'Do it again Mum!'; I managed to right myself, climb up and out of the bog and hobble rather painfully and slowly home stinking like a wart hog and bleating pathetically like a lamb! Poor me.

Anyway I ended up confined to bed again - there must be something about Mondays that just doesn't agree with me. For goodness sake - the winter months are supposed to me my time off and I don't want to spend them in bed convalescing.

Anyway, there is only so much daytime TV drivel a girl can stomach so yesterday it was time for another big adventure. The hunt for a Christmas tree!

It was like some kind of military exercise - the planning was unbelievable, Buck House has nothing on Seaview! Dog cage out of the car, back seats down, front seats moved forward, all the puppy dog paraphernalia packed (just in case!), saw, sheets, dog.................you know by the time we set off I was beginning to think we wouldn't have a room for a tree.

Anyway, 30 minutes later we went off road and up into the forest hills to choose a tree! Well, we were spoilt for choice - where do you start when you have miles and miles and acres of pine trees to choose from - big trees, little trees, tall trees, short trees, green trees, blue trees, stumpy trees, fat trees, thin trees, trees with cones, trees without cones, trees that shed needles, trees that don't, fragrant trees, non-fragrant trees...................................................well, you girls know what it's like. It's like asking us to choose a shade of paint for the wall - there are 213 million shades of magnolia for goodness sake, so how am I supposed to choose a tree from a whole forest.

Simple solution - leave it to HE man.

Before I could say "Yes but no but.......................", my man was off into the forest (complete with saw and yellow wellies) and brought me back this fine specimen.

After a wee bit of re-arranging in the car (leaving me to hobble 15 miles home was non-negotiable) the tree was in the boot and we were back home before nightfall.

I love real Christmas trees - I love their colour, scent, shape and their style but I do suffer with my conscience a wee bit; cutting down a tree just to dress it up and then throw it out naked in a month's time seems quite brutal, even though we had millions to choose from.

Well the tree was in, cut down to size (just a wee bit more lopped off).................and then handsomely dressed in its best bib and tucker. I adore the traditional wooden ornaments with lots of reds and greens with a splash of bright shiny baubles.

Every year I buy a couple of new additions and this year I bought these lovely wooden ones

An Angel
everybody has one looking out for them

Good ole Santa Claus x

Frosty the Snowman
This is as good as it gets!

Fingers crossed the tree is still there in the morning - Megan has been stalking and eyeing it up; she thinks it's her new chew toy!

Ewe have to be joking.....................

2007-12-02T19:57:00.000Z

With the recent 'foot and mouth' scare in the south of England, the repercussions of restricting the movement of livestock have hit the farmers really hard here in the north, especially as it came just when the livestock markets were about to start and the farmers would be selling this year's lambs on for fattening up ready for entering the food chain.

The Government's response to this has been to offer farmers a measly £15.00 per lamb to have it slaughtered and incinerated, By the time the lambs have been ferried across to the mainland etc. there is little of the £15.00 per lamb left to compensate the farmer for the loss of his stock and livelihood. It seems positively criminal to me when you think of all the starving mouths there are around the world that need feeding. It also seems crazy to me that the Government continues to allow lamb imports into the UK when our own farmers are forced into corners with their backs against the wall. What ever happened to charity begins at home? We should be supporting our farmers and buying British lamb - talk about importing coal to Newcastle!

One way we have helped support one of the local farmers is to buy a couple of his lambs that have been slaughtered on the island and our freezer is now fully stocked with every conceivable cut of lamb you can think of - any suggestions/recipes on what to cook with the lamb greatly welcomed.

We have enjoyed leg of lamb as part of our Sunday roast today and as delicious as the lamb was (this is real lean organic lamb I'm talking about from the wild rugged hills of Mull - not your supermarket rubbish), I have mild indigestion at the thought that the only reason the lamb found it's way on my plate to start with was because it had a death warrant on it's head courtesy of the incompetence of HM Government!!

One thing's for sure, when I find I can't sleep tonight because of the indigestion, I won't be counting sheep to help me sleep!

Rainbows and Robins

2007-11-29T10:25:00.000Z

“Red and yellow and pink and green, orange and purple and blue. I can sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow too. Listen with your eyes, listen with your eyes, sing every song you see – I can sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow, sing along with me…………………………………………………”

I have always been captivated by rainbows – the bright spectrum of colours, the wonderful perfectly formed arch, almost like a secret doorway inviting you into another world. The magical tales we are told as children – that there is a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow; and all the songs that are sung about rainbows.

Rainbows are magical to me – I always feel closer to spirit when I see a rainbow; for me rainbows are a time when angels and fairies make their presence known on earth; I find great comfort from rainbows and always feel uplifted and at peace. Luckily for me I live in a place where rainbows are abundant – sometimes almost daily. I never tire of seeing a rainbow and I was particularly thrilled to have been honoured by the visit of 2 rainbows on my birthday last week whilst I was in Oban.

I love robin redbreasts too. For me they are cheeky chappies with a lovely plumage – bright and cheerful, bringing joy especially in the gloomy winter months.

We have a robin in our garden – he makes a daily appearance in the autumn and winter months; I’m sure he’s about throughout the summer too but we see less of him then. Not long after Megan came to live with us, I noticed the robin in the garden regularly and then I realised that there were two – a smaller less colourful robin who I assume is a female. The female seems particularly partial to human company – she sits in the trees and watches our antics and hops along the garden fence and wall whenever I am out in the garden playing with Megan.

After a couple of weeks of regular visits I remembered how much my mother loved robins – she always fed the birds in her garden but robins were her favourites. I mentioned this to my sister Sarah and told her I thought Mum had come back to visit me in the form of a robin. She suggested I feed it cheese gratings – as Mum had always fed cheese to her robins.

The robin loves the cheese and on the days I have forgotten to put it out, she comes into the house to remind me. I have found her in the dining room and upstairs in one of the bedrooms; a couple of weeks ago she was sat on the breadboard in the kitchen helping herself to the crumbs on the board and on the evening of my birthday 10 days ago, as we were all sat in the dining room enjoying my birthday dinner, she flew in and sat on the carpet in the lounge looking through at us as if to say Happy Birthday to me before flying off again.

A year ago today, I was with my darling mum when she died. At her funeral we played ‘Somewhere over the rainbow’ by Israel Kamakawiwo, a song Mum had heard on the radio days before she was admitted into hospital and a song she absolutely adored. Many of you who left me posts on my birthday said you were sure my mum was with me on my special day – I am in doubt whatsoever that she was.

And so, whenever I see a rainbow or a robin, I know my mum Millie has stopped by for a while to say hello.

UPDATE: The photo below was taken this morning by John - not only did a rainbow show this morning after I had published this post but the robin sat on the garden wall in front of the breakfast room for me too!

A Daily Meditation

2007-11-28T18:33:00.000Z

I've been laid up in bed since Sunday with a bout of sinusitis which has given me a head like a sore bear and a tolerance level to match. I had to wait a couple of days for my antibiotics to be delivered and I'm hoping by tomorrow I will start to feel almost human again.

In the time I've been laid up, I've had to slow down and rest - it's funny how your body malfunctions forcing you to stop when you don't stop to listen to it voluntarily. This has allowed me to think (bad move) but also to be in 'the moment' - something I think we are all pretty bad at doing in our busy busy lives.

Daily meditation in whatever form, need only take 5 minutes or so - long enough to ground yourself, long enough to stop the chattering monkeys, long enough to regroup your thoughts, long enough to take in a deep breath and let it our again slowly, long enough to know who you are and where you are going.

On my bedroom wall (directly in my line of vision) is a Buddhist meditation which reads like this:

Let us be still for a few moments
Without moving even our little finger
So that a hush descends upon us.
There would be no place to go,
Nor to come from,
For we would have arrived in this
extraordinary moment,
There would be a stillness and silence,
That would fill all our senses,
Where all things would find their rest.
Everything would then be together in a
deep connection.
Putting an end to "us and them", this
against that.
We would not move in these brief
moments
For that would disturb this palpable presence;
There would be nothing to be said nor done
For life would embrace us in this wondrous meeting
And take us into its arms as a loving friend.

I thought I would share it with you today and wish you all a quiet five minutes to just check in with yourselves.

The Wanderer Returns

2007-11-24T16:37:00.000Z

When John was a commercial fisherman catching lobsters and velvet crabs for the Spanish market, he did so from The Wanderer, a tiny 19ft Orkney Fastliner. When he retired from fishing, he kept the boat and it has become a toy, a play thing, a................................pleasure craft........................of sorts,.........................................so to speak.

Don't get me wrong - it ain't posh and it's not a floating gin palace, but it has brought us hours of fun and pleasure especially in the summer months when we have gone out in the boat and cruised the hidden bays and coves, exploring the white sandy beaches, enjoying sausage barbecues and letting the kids have fun in the sun building sandcastles or burying each other!

The Wanderer has provided us with a fantastic means of 'getting away from it all' - especially as it allows us to get to places you can't reach by car or on foot and this very often means we are the only folks there. Yeeha!

Yesterday was a big day on our calendar - getting The Wanderer out of the water and on to dry land where she will remain over the winter months! This year this task has been later than usual - we've had to wait for a calm day and schedule it between tide times (which are big at the moment with the full moon), the ferry runs to Iona, the swell of the sea and of course the weather.

Yesterday was perfect.

The three of us tramped over the hills and across the moors to Bullhole where The Wanderer is kept moored whenever there are strong westerly winds - John marched on ahead, a man on a mission, Megan was in her element snuffling backwards and forwards in between belly flopping in the peat bogs, and me.....................well, I followed up the rear huffing and puffing like a wart hog

Having arrived at Bullhole, the next stage was for John to row out to The Wanderer in his wee dinghy - Megan and I watched on the hillside entranced as this ritual was performed.

This is how it goes:

1) First of all a pair of 'sexy' yellow waterproof trousers go on over the normal trousers and yellow wellies;

2) lumps of granite are tossed out of the dinghy - these keep it weighted down in the event of high winds blowing it away;

3) the dinghy is baled out using a battered old plastic tub;

4) a foot pump is then put into action to ensure the dinghy is fully inflated (accompanied by an impression of a snorting bull - his sound effects not mine);

5) and for the grand finale - the dinghy is then hoisted onto the head and back (again accompanied by sound effects) and the trek across the rocks towards the water commences............actually it's more like a waddle and it reminds me of the Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtles.

Check out the photos - what do you reckon?

Megan was completely bemused as she watched this spectacle as you can see from the expression!

The good news is The Wanderer is now out for the winter and on dry land; we managed a final sail in her and Megan is now officially a young Sea dog having earned her place as First Mate on her maiden voyage aboard The Wanderer (albeit in my arms, on my lap and sloppering all over my face just so she could see over the side!).

Mull Musings: Puppy Training - Lesson 1

2007-11-21T21:30:00.000Z

Mull Musings: Puppy Training - Lesson 1

Puppy Training - Lesson 1

2007-11-21T20:32:00.000Z

Megan has been with us now for 7 weeks - half of her wee short life! Our life seems to have been split into two - life before Megan and life with Megan!

She's a monster of a dog - she has more than doubled in size and weight; whenever people ask how old she is (3 months and one week) they are astounded at her size. Don't get me wrong she's not fat............(well there is some puppy fat but she's rapidly growing into her skin), I think it's the height of her and the size of paws. People also assume because of her size that she is a HE dog rather than a SHE dog.

Puppy training is going well......................er,......sort of..............................who am I trying to kid?

Don't you believe it - it's a con. There's no such thing as puppy training - it's really about how the dog trains its human parents. And you'll not be surprised to hear that Megan is an A* teacher and John and I are D minus students. The 'D' is for dunce by the way..................as if you hadn't guessed.

Our day goes like this....................

Around 6 a.m. the alarm goes off ......................except it isn't an alarm, it's Megan letting us know she's awake and ready for the day. One of us bolts out of bed to let her out into the garden so she can have a pee (she has slept all night and hasn't peed in her bed yet!); then she mooches around our ankles salivating and stalking us until she has her breakfast at 7 a.m. (before we get ours!).

After another trip into the garden followed by a fart and a burp, she chances her tail for some more food (Labs are the dustbins of the dog world and I've never had such a clean kitchen floor!). Then she hits the sack and it's snooze time, complete with doggie woops, woofs and piano playing with her paws as she dreams about her next food fest!

Mid morning through the use of sad puppy eyes and telepathy, it's walkies..............................and what a great time we have. The wild moorland, scrub, peat bogs and water here makes it the hunting and retrieving Utopia for Labradors. Megan is in her element - there is enough sheep poo here for her to devour until the cows come home. Why do dogs do that?

At 3 months old Megan runs free off the leash and it is an absolute pleasure to see. She is in her natural environment, behaving and performing as she should be - running, sniffing, rummaging, retrieving, bouncing, jumping, springing on all four paws ...........she's great fun to watch and be with. After a further snooze and feed at tea time, it's play time...........................sorry, that should be puppy training time.

Yeah right..........this is how it goes.

We play tug-of-war, fetch, hide and seek, don't chew my toes chew his, lick his face not mine (I know what you've been eating today!), chew his wellies not mine (I need them tomorrow to walk you), bring back my pink frilly knickers from the laundry basket (the guests don't need to know what I wear!), don't blow bubbles in your water bowl and then dribble everywhere (I got wet enough today as it was), make your smells in his air space not mine (I need to breathe to take you walking again tomorrow)............................I guess by now you are getting the picture.

At the end of the day, it's a quick walk before bedtime (weather permitting, she's not going out in the rain if she doesn't need to) and then we have a bedtime routine. We slide open the wooden hatch so Megan can walk into her cupboard (she's too big and heavy now to lift over), she settles onto her bed and waits while her collar is taken off, she has a fresh bowl of water put down for her and then her puppy kong toy is filled with some feed.

And then it's time to go ballistic as she noses this kong around the cupboard floor, bouncing off the walls until she has teased and enticed every little morsel out of it. And then she settles down for the night and snores like a pig for the next 8 hours!

Watch this space for puppy training lesson number 2...............................................................

Happy Birthday to me............................

2007-11-19T20:36:00.000Z

Today is my birthday and I'm the grand old age of 43!

I have mixed feelings about my birthday today as a year ago on my birthday, my darling mum was taken into hospital after collapsing at home. She had been ill with emphysema for 15 years and sadly after struggling for 10 days in ICU she died. I was honoured to be with her at the time and I miss her very much. I will be lighting a candle for my mum, Millie over the next ten days.

I've spent today quietly(ish) - I decided to go to Oban on the first ferry and have my hair done. I begged my stylist to do the impossible and perform a miracle - make me look 23 again and disguise all my grey hairs!

We agreed on a compromise and I think he's done a fabulous job - he got rid of my grey hairs with some lovely warm reds and chestnuts but I accepted that making me look 23 again was probably beyond even his magical skills. Never mind I like what he has done.

I got home this evening and my lovely family have been busy all day preparing a birthday feast for me.

The table was beautifully set with candles and champagne glasses, cards and gifts. John had cooked a chicken curry complete with poppadums, naan bread, and all the pickles, chutneys and accompaniments you can think of; and Amanda put her culinary skills together and baked me a lemon meringue pie. Scrummilious!!

I'm absolutely stuffed and couldn't eat or drink another thing. I'm full of food, drink and brimming over with love from my gorgeous husband and lovely children.

Thank you everyone for making today such a special, lovely and memorable birthday.

PS: If anyone can tell me what I've done wrong with my profile and photo I'd be ever so grateful. I've tried starting a blog for Megan called Megan's World but it seems to have overwritten everything I'd written about me! I don't mind being called Megan and looking so cute and adorable but I think my husband might...........maybe not!

Close Encounters of the Wild Kind!!

2007-11-14T20:28:00.000Z

Oo what a long day today has been - up at 6.30 am to feed and walk Megan and then off to Craignure at 7.30 to catch the first ferry over to Oban on the mainland - Josh had a follow up appointment at the fracture clinic to make sure his arm was healing properly. He's had his cast off 3 weeks now, and fortunately everything is going according to plan.

The drive to Craignure is along 37 miles of single track road which meander around lochs, through mountainous glens and pine forests. The road (there's only one) is just about wide enough for a bus to travel along; the road looks like a patchwork quilt as it has been 'repaired' so many times over the years, it has unexpected cambers, bumps and potholes it's enough to make your teeth rattle and roll inside your head and you wear out more brake pads than you have hot dinners! (Now you know why there is a car rally here every year.)

The drive can take 45-60 minutes depending on the following:

1) whether or not you left in time to catch the ferry (helps);
2) your speed;
3) the weather;
4) how many oncoming vehicles you meet on the way (and have to reverse back for);
5) whether or not you can swing a vehicle round a 90 degree bend at 60 mph or not;
6) and how many suicidal sheep, cow and deer decide to cross your path.

The drive is not unlike a 'white knuckle ride' you see at some of these adventure theme parks (you know the ones - people pay a lot of money to go on the ride and scare themselves silly!). Very often guests arrive down here off the ferry with that 'startled bunny in the headlight' look, hair standing on end, a crazed manic look on the faces and gritted teeth. We usually have to prise their fingers off the steering wheel and reassure them that they have finally arived.

I love driving - to me it's great fun and the roads on Mull are without a doubt challenging, fun and exciting......well, most of the time, anyway.

Today the drive was more of a challenge than usual. Why?

1) Well, it was dark when I left the house to start with so visibility was a bit of an issue;
2) I had left later than usual because I couldn't find the car keys and Megan thought it would be great fun to run off with my shoes;
3) there was low cloud cover so visibility became an even bigger issue;
4) it was raining and the window wipers left smears on the screen (even on super fast speed) so visibility was now a monumental issue;
5) the amount of surface water meant that the car was dancing and sliding all over the road as we aquaplaned our way to Craignure;
6) and then finally there were the suicidal sheep..........................the suicidal cows...........................................and oh yes, the suicidal deer!

Today I managed the drive in 47 minutes. Woo Hoo!

I arrived in Craignure just in time to catch the ferry (just as well because there wasn't another one leaving the island until 5 pm), with that 'startled bunny' look, hair standing on end, gritted teeth and cramp in my fingers as I prised them off the steering wheel!

And then after taking all day to recover from my ordeal, I travelled back to Mull on the 4 pm ferry, to do it all again on the way home!!!

Aaahhhhhhhhhhhh ............................................................

I finally arrived home at 6 pm this evening and was met by my husband who offered me a cup of tea and a slice of cake. I didn't have the heart to tell him I actually needed a bottle of Gin and not much tonic.

Reason Season Lifetime

2007-11-12T20:21:00.000Z

I had intended writing about my day off today to tell you about the antics of my daft dog and my even dafter husband but have decided instead to share this poem with you called Reason, Season, Lifetime.

As I was browsing around blog land today (as one does especially when there's a 101 other things to do), I ended up somewhere totally unexpected! It's a bit like Alice in Wonderland - once you've fallen through the big black hole you are faced with a number of doors to choose from and there is absolutely no telling where you are going to end up. I ended up in Australia today - wow!

During my journey today I was acutely aware of the number of folk who are really facing up to challenges and struggles in their lives at the moment and it brought to mind this poem I was given several years ago by a lovely lady called Carole Thornton - who incidentally was in my life for a reason.

I have decided to post the poem today - I don't know when it was written or who by; I hope for anyone calling by you find some comfort, reassurance and understanding from the poem and I wish you well as you continue on your journeys.

REASON, SEASON, LIFETIME

"People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed outwardly or inwardly. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend, and they are.

They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up or out and force you to take a stand.

What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and it is now time to move on.

When people come into your life for a SEASON, it is because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn.

They may bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons; those things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person/people (anyway); and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant."

3 Men and a Wee Dip

2007-11-11T20:49:00.000Z

What is it about men, that you just know when it comes to them giving you an explanation about something, nothing....................., ABSOLUTELY nothing is ever as it seems?

If a man thinks he is in trouble with you, he will half everything - anything to minimise the bother he thinks he is going to be in; on the other hand, if he is trying to impress you, everything doubles in quantity, as though he really does think and believe that quantity is much more impressive and important than quality!

Now I have many men in my life - my husband, my sons, my father, my brother, my nephew....you get the picture? .....................and no matter what, they all seem to have been born with this 'half it or double it' gene that they genuinely believe will get them/keep them out of bother.

As if!!

Now take this sorry tale of 3 men and a wee dip...............my husband, my father (also know as the elderly relative), my brother and an altercation with a 'wee dip'!

Last month on Mull, was the annual Isle of Mull Car Rally - it runs over three days and two nights and has done so for over 30 years. There are 160+ competitors and for enthusiastic motor sports fans it is a great weekend for participants and spectators alike.

My father and brother travelled north from over the border (England) and came to stay with us so they could watch the rally. John, my husband was tasked with locating some of the best vantage points to watch the rally from and as one of the night stages was being held a few miles from us, John did as he was asked and dutifully went out on a recce to find a good spot to watch the rally from.

So far so good.

Now, for spectators to get into these viewing points they have to leave their vehicles some distance away and walk in; because of safety issues they also have to do it some time before the roads are officially closed and before the cars start arriving for the start of the race.

Are you still with me?

Well, John had done his recce and even though he had done it in broad daylight he was confident he would be able to relocate the view point (via a gate, across a field and up a wee hill) at 10 p.m. at night in the pitch black (there are very few street lights here). Father-in law and brother-in-law were fair impressed and so that night off the three of them went, complete with wet weather gear, torches, rucksacks, sandwiches and flasks of hot soup. There's nothing quite like being prepared and as my father is a retired military man and my brother a former boy Scout, preparation is all important on these night excursions!

Fortunately the weather was kind to them that night - it was mild and it was dry. BUT it had been raining heavily for some days a few days earlier.

Now whose account I'm supposed to believe about what happened next is anyone's guess - needless to say, I got three very different versions over breakfast the next morning and to this day I still don't know who to believe.

What HAS been agreed is that the rally went very well. Even in the dark they could see and hear the cars racing round the chicanes, through the bends, up the hills and out again down the other side -throaty roars, sparks trailing behind, bouncing head lights and disco beating last minute braking. By all accounts it was all rather exhilarating.

But HOW to account for the mud bath that followed them home at 2 a.m. in the morning?

Version 1: (My Father's aged 65 years aka The Elderly Relative)

Following a lull in the racing about 1 a.m., a joint decision was reached that now would be a good (and a safe) time to make tracks out and back to the car before the racing started again and as the racing appeared to have stopped (for the time being) they could walk back to the car along the road (the same road that is, being used as a car rally racing track). But instead he was over ruled by his son-in-law (John), my husband, and they were to go back the same way they came in!

Except that John decided to take a short cut.......................without telling them,.................which ended up with all three of them cart wheeling down a hill, through some scrub and into an over flowing burn full of mud!

Version 2: (My brother's aged 44 years)

He just followed the leader (John and my father), did as he was told and nearly pee'd his pants laughing so much at the situation !

Version 3: (My husband John aka Noddy, aged 46 years)

Complete denial at the inference that he didn't know where he was going, .............................he was in full and complete control at all times, ........................he was a leader of men,...................... the other two were just 'lily whites' who weren't used to living in the country and were constantly complaining, and the 'wee' dip was just a little unexpected surprise that just added to the excitment of the evening!

I'm sure somewhere in amongst the three versions lies the truth.

Interestingly though, 2 nights later we were entertaining friends for dinner and this story was then again told. One of the friends on realising the location of the view point and the route taken out from it exclaimed, "For goodness sake Noddy, that's a SEVERE drop you fell from there - I'm surprised you didn't all break your necks!"

And the moral of the story? .....................my point about men has been completely and utterly proven. Men really do either half something or they double it depending on the situation!

Lazy Days and Sunday Mornings

2007-11-11T15:39:00.000Z

The tourist season has pretty much come to an end for this year with just a trickle of visitors coming through - intrepid adventurers who obviously like to experience the solitude and winter wilderness out here, just as I do actually.

It usually takes a week or so for me to start unwinding and to reclaim the house as my home again after filling it for 8 months of the year with house guests from all around the world. Don't get me wrong, I like this business especially as it allows me to live here and enjoy the lifestyle we have. I wouldn't change a thing and we get to meet some really interesting people with some really unusual stories from some really wonderful places - if we accepted all the return offers of hospitality we would have to start our own global travels right now in order to fit them all in!

My lazy days so far have comprised of sleeping in past 6.45 a.m (woo hoo), not getting dressed until lunchtime (woo hoo too), mountains of toast for lunch topped with lashings of melting butter, reading my book in bed followed by afternoon naps, bowls of cereal for tea, walks on the beach with Megan & John, drinking mugs of hot chocolate and sitting for hours at my laptop in the breakfast room, watching the world go by along with my very own moving picture show in the form of the weather moving up the Sound of Iona, all supposedly under the pretext of updating the website.

One of the best bits though was having friends over for dinner last night and not worrying about getting up to cook breakfast for guests in the morning. These sessions can turn into 'all-nighters' as we put the world to rights! (yeah right, as if it will only take a few wee drams of whisky!). This morning over Sunday brunch and nursing the 'mother' of all hangovers we had our woeful, sorry heads distracted with the incredible flying skills of a solitary female buzzard hovering over the grassy embankment along the beach just outside the window where we were all sat, as it hunted for voles and mice.

It's aerial acrobatics as it hunted its prey and at the same time dismissing the dive bombing antics of several hooded crows (locally known as 'hoodies', because they behave like thugs!) as though they were irritating gnats was a real honour to watch and really rather humbling. It added a certain wow! factor to the start of the day and despite our grumblings of the night before made us realise how very lucky we are to live here and just how small and insignificant we are in the great scheme of things.

The walk afterwards down at Ardalanish Bay helped blow the cobwebs away and cured the hangover. The photo was taken by John this afternoon - it's a great place to walk especially as the tide was out and the beach deserted. Hope you like the view.

Winter Comforts

2007-11-08T16:43:00.000Z

Winter arrived here about 3.15 this morning when it blew in from the Atlantic and decided to shake, rattle & roll just about everything it could find; if it wasn't battened down it was flying................................the ferries have been cancelled as the sea is too rough to sail (force 10 storms!) and so we really are cut off from the mainland. It's great :-)

Today isn't the worse weather we've had; far from it, but after such a long spell of mild and unseasonal warm weather (plants and shrubs budding again as though it was spring), this cold north Atlantic blast has been a bit of shock to the system and has meant the thermals are getting an airing!

I'm convinced in a former life I was an old grizzly bear - all I want to do at this time of year is eat, eat, eat and sleep, sleep, sleep! And I'm cantankerous and growly like an old bear too - my husband John is wondering where the two horns growing out of the top of my head have come from.

I wonder if people living in the far reaches of the northern hemisphere really could hibernate for the winter? I'd be the first to volunteer. I'm craving carbohydrates - I've cleared the shelves in the village shop, chocolate biscuits, peanut butter, bananas, ginger cake, and apricot jam to go with the mountain of warm toast and lashings of melting butter! (And that was just lunch).

In this modern world of 24/7 living, with artificial light available whenever we want it, I wonder if we are doing ourselves a disservice by constantly being on the go. The seasons serve a purpose for all things and we ignore them at our peril. Spring is for rebirth; summer is for growth; autumn for harvesting and reflection and the winter is for rest and recuperation.

I say let our minds, bodies and souls rest a while; eat and sleep this winter; be kind to ourselves and reap the rewards next spring with renewed energy and vigour.

Two Worlds

2007-11-06T18:45:00.000Z

I spent the weekend with my delightful 14 year old stepdaughter Amanda celebrating our birthdays together in the grand city of Edinburgh.

It was a truely girlie weekend - posh city boutique hotel, fine food and dining, cinema, shopping, cocktails at lunchtime at Harvey Nichols, pampering sessions with facials and manicures, thai cuisine and a fabulous dance musical called The Car Man (music from Carmen, story line based on The Postman Always Rings Twice).

We had a great time together doing what girls do in a really packed 2 days and as much as I enjoyed it and I'm happy to have had the opportunity to spend time with Amanda, it was also a timely reminder of why I'm so pleased I don't live on the mainland.

Congested traffic, pollution, lots of people(!) most of whom seemed to be walking about in a zombie like state with angry faces and gritted teeth spending huge amounts of money I'm sure they could ill-afford; shops galore full of clothes that are extortionate in price and never really going to be worn and vast quantities of food thrown away from restaurants and other eateries because folk order more than they can eat!

We didn't see much change from £1,000 for those 2 days away.

In contrast, I spent yesterday and today with John and our 12 week old pup Megan enjoying and appreciating so much more, the rather simpler things in life - the views from the breakfast room, the stormy weather, walks on the beach, the antics of Megan and the love of a good man.

Priceless!

I know where I would rather be and I wouldn't swop it for all the tea in China.

Puppy Love

2007-10-30T16:59:00.000Z

Well what can I say!

I’ve fallen in love ...............yet again, at the age of 42 years and 11 months! This time with a gorgeous chocolate Labrador pup called Megan – she’s 11 weeks old today and has been occupying most of my time over the past 4 weeks.

Hence the reason for not blogging!

I’d forgotten what it was like to have a baby in the house and now I remember all those reasons why I said 13 years ago, (after doing my duty for Queen & country and giving birth to the last of my 2 strapping sons), I wouldn’t be having any more babies...................early mornings, toilet training, teething troubles, regular feeding, constantly saying Noooooooooo (which bit of NO don’t you understand?), continually having to remove things out of the way and having eyeballs that swivel 360 degrees in the back of my head. It’s absolutely exhausting!!

But I love it.

What fun we’ve had this past month getting to know one another. Never having owned a dog before it has been an incredibly steep learning curve for both John and me – not least because what seems pretty simple, ordinary and normal to us humans can mean something quite different in doggie language.

Megan was born to Jura and Sidney (both chocolate Labs) who live on Iona and is one of a litter of 9. When I saw the notice in the shop next door saying they were for sale, I just knew it was meant to be. We had been talking about having a family dog for sometime but were constantly procrastinating and putting the decision off – when was a good time, would we be tied down, where would she live, did we have time, weren’t we busy enough......blah, blah, blah.

And after all the doubts and anxiety about having done the right thing? Well I would never have guessed at the joy, fun, love and laughter such a bundle of brown fur and long gangly legs could bring into a home.

And her full pedigree Kennel Club name?

Kenmilleven Melting Wispa................but we prefer Megan, who at 11 weeks old has already captured and melted our hearts forever.

PS: Many thanks to all of you who have posted comments saying you are missing my posts. All is well – just frenetic at the moment :-)

My Sunshine Child

2007-09-16T20:38:00.000+01:00

This is Josh, my sunshine child.

At 13 years of age and nearly six foot tall, Josh is neither boy or man but he will forever be 'my sunshine child'. His smile lights up the planet (although he is slightly squiffy in this photo having consumed a couple of glasses of wine at our wedding reception last year).

Last week I was called from the mainland where Josh goes to school (and boards during the week), to be told he had broken his arm whilst playing football and he was in hospital. I was 60 miles away - an hours drive by car to the ferry port with a further 45 minutes on the ferry. The last ferry had already sailed and I was stranded on Mull!

This is the down side of living on an island.

After a restless night, I left home at 7 a.m. the following morning and was at the hospital on the mainland by 10 a.m. And my boy? Oh, chilled and cozy, watching a DVD tucked up in a side room on the ward being cared for by the nursing staff. "Hi Mum", says he with a big cheery smile. "Look, I've broken my arm!"

Nothing fazes this boy of mine.

Several hours later after much pontificating by the doctors, I drove my son 100 miles to the nearest city where he spent another night in another hospital waiting for an operation to have his arm manipulated, reset and cast in plaster from his wrist to his shoulder!

Four hours after the operation, and 48 hours after the initial accident we were back on the road again heading north, arriving home on Mull later that evening, exhausted but just glad to be back in our own surroundings.

In that short period of time I had slept little, travelled 300 miles, worried and fretted as a mum but thankful it wasn't too serious; Josh in the mean time had thought it 'cool' to have broken his arm (some perverse sense of street cred and kudos here?) and remained constant and cheerful throughout. No fuss, no whinging, no whining, no tears or pain killers.

He never ceases to amaze me and I love him to bits.

Thank you Josh for being in my life.

Living by the Ocean

2007-09-11T12:54:00.000+01:00

Having posted this Thought for Today.... "Most of the time our minds are like water whipped into waves by the distraction and pressures of life. We spend much of our lives in touch with only with the choppy surface. Meditation enables us to calm down, so the water becomes clear and still" it got me thinking about what it means to live here on the edge of the ocean.

Every day I watch the tides ebb and flow (it's a new moon tonight so the tides will be quite big); sometimes the sea is big, sometimes small; sometimes it is cobalt blue, turquoise, and aquamarine and sometimes it is grey, quite sinister looking and cold.

There are no two days the same as the water from the ocean flows into the bay and out again, completely at will, timeless - regardless of the weather, the people who make their living from the sea, the marine life that depend on it or all of the different kinds of boats that sail up and down the Sound of Iona.

The sea is in constant motion and never still - sometimes it gently laps around the rocks, sometimes it crashes noisily down on them; sometimes it lovingly caresses the white sands on the beach and sometimes it mischievously churns it up; sometimes it laughingly kicks up white horses and at other times it will whisper to you and lull you to sleep.

How like life is the sea!

Fruits of the Sea

2007-09-05T21:04:00.000+01:00

Sumptuous, decadent, delicious, extravagant...................all words I have heard to describe the seafood platter we serve to our guests for dinner. As well as WOW, of course!

Funnily enough, I'm not a great lover of shellfish or seafood (although John is) and until I came to Mull my experience had been limited to Scampi or Prawn Cocktail served with lashings of Marie Rose sauce to disguise the taste. It's something to do with the texture and feel of the food in the mouth, plus it seems awfully hard work having to crack open, pick, scrape and suck for very little return in the way of actual substance and good grub in the mouth.

Anyway, we have been busy serving dinners all week and as we specialise in seafood I thought I would share some of what we do with anyone who happens to pop by and visit my blog - unfortunately the sharing will be in a virtual sense and you will just have to use your imagination to taste and smell the food.

All of the seafood is caught locally - my husband John used to be a lobster and crab fisherman so he knows where to go for the best catches; so along with lobster and crab we also serve langoustines (whole prawns), mussels, clams and smoked trout accompanied by a fresh green salad with a delicate lemon dressing, home made potato salad and warm crusty bread with butter. Are you salivating yet?

I was quite worried when we first started serving seafood - you hear horror stories about food poisoning, allergic reactions, etc and because it seems so decadent there is a sense that the food has to be 'tarted up' with sauces and so on. Nothing could be further than the truth!

The seafood doesn't get fresher than it does here - landed at the pier and in the pot within the hour! With a touch of butter, garlic, lemon, lime and white wine and hey presto a gourmet feast fit for a king (and queen). The simpler the food is served, the better it tastes and it looks absolutely fantastic - folks just love having their photos taken with the platters.

One of my first experiences of catching shellfish was a couple of years ago, walking along one of my favourite beaches at a very low tide and coming across colonies of mussels clinging to the rocks hidden away under the kelp and seaweed. What a bonanza of a find - there were hundreds of them and here we were beach combing with nothing to carry them in. Fortunately for us, we had earlier found a fisherman's yellow wellie boot stuck in a crevice high up in one of the rocks, and so having retrieved the wellie boot we used it to collect the mussels. We joked about serving portion sizes as 'half a wellie' or 'a whole wellie'! I'm not sure about the aroma but the mussels tasted just fine.

The first time lobsters and crab were caught and brought in to the kitchen for cooking made me feel quite squeamish. Not ever having seen a live lobster before I was very surprised to discover they were a dark inkey blue in colour and not the bright salmon pink I had always assumed them to be! City chick eh! Doh!

With their claws secured with elastic bands to stop them nipping, all I could think of was Sebastian from Disney's 'Little Mermaid' and when the pan lid started to rattle as though the lobsters were knocking to come out ("Hello, we've been steamed pink and we would like to get out now please!") I couldn't bear the process anymore and had to retire to the sitting room for the rest of the evening whilst my husband carried on with the cooking.

Even today whenever the cooking pot comes out and the crabs and lobsters start trying to creep and crawl their way out of the kitchen sink, I always say sorry to them before they go in the pot and then leave the cooking to John.

I cook with love and I hope they forgive me; our guests say the food is delicious and just occasionally I manage to overcome my guilt and I sample a mouth or two.

Will this day ever end?

2007-09-04T21:02:00.000+01:00

Ooh what a difference a day makes. So lovely yesterday and today so dreich (Adjective: description of the usual scottish weather viz. damp, dreary, overcast & drizzling) - I can't even see the beach or the front gate it's that miserable. Fine scotch mist as they say.

Work here is split into two sorts: wet weather work and dry weather work - today has definitely been wet weather work which has meant completing and catching up with the never ending chores inside. For me after the normal day's duties, that has meant paperwork - boo hoo!

Filing, sorting, shredding, actioning, referring, reading, decision making - it's amazing the amount of paperwork such a small business can generate. But if I didn't do it - would anyone really care? There have been times in the not too distant past that I used to treat paperwork like old clothes - you know the one; if you haven't worn it for 12 months then recycle them, bin them, give them away.

I have done the same with paperwork - if I hadn't dealt with it within 3 months and no one had written to me again about it I used to recycle it by shredding it and sticking it on the compost heap. It's ever so liberating and very environmentally friendly! An old friend taught me about this style of paperwork management several years ago - only she had 4 years worth of unopened mail and paperwork to deal with. So after the shredder blew a gasket and finally gave up the ghost we had a huge bonfire in her back garden and burnt it all instead - it was some bonfire I can tell you!

I reviewed this practice when after repeatedly paying Late Penalty fines of £100.00 a time to the Inland Revenue for failing to complete and return my Tax Returns for 3 years (because I had shredded and recycled them), I grew merrily pished on Gordon's Gin one night and decided to bite the bullet, complete the paperwork and send it back. Imagine my horror when a few weeks later I was notified that I had in fact been paying too much tax and was owed money by the Inland Revenue instead!

Needless to say I was never refunded all of the Late Penalty fines I had paid over those three years and have subsequently paid more attention to my paperwork ever since!

And the moral of the story?............................drink more Gin, it gets the job done!

I'm not lost - I'm on a journey

2007-09-03T11:15:00.000+01:00

I've always liked Mondays because it signals the start of a new week and it means I have lots of things to do and look forward to; today has been no exception and I haven't been disappointed. In fact, wow! what a wonderful day Monday has been today - and not just because it has been sunny with blue skies but because when you are least expecting it, a lovely surprise pops up out of nowhere and can really make your day.

During the course of a very busy morning (stripping out and cleaning bedrooms.......lovely!) I checked a chest of drawers in one of the bedrooms - something I should do more often but very often forget to. However today, I discovered sitting tucked neatly in the drawer a book in a clear plastic bag with the words 'Free Book' printed on it along with the following: "Thank you for finding me! I'm a special book, travelling around the world and making new friends. Please take me home with you, and look inside my cover to see how to Read and Release me at: bookcrossing.com"

The book entitled 'Bones of Contention. The Archaeopteryx Scandals' by Paul Chambers also had a lovely little sticker on the front telling me it was a Traveling Book along with the words "I'm not lost - I'm on a journey".

I'm not sure if I'll be that enamoured with the book, but I'll give it a go and see what happens. I am however thrilled at having found it and the whole concept of bookcrossing.com I've spent half the day browsing this wonderful website and for all you book lovers out there, please do have a look at this site - it's amazing and great fun. I'm so excited, I can't wait to get started reading and releasing my books 'into the wild'.

Interestingly in a moment of quiet reflection this afternoon the words I'm not lost - I'm on a journey made me stop and think about the meaning behind the words. There have been many times over the years when I have felt completely lost; so lost in fact that I have often wondered what it is I am supposed to be doing and where it is I am supposed to be going. Life doesn't come with a Manual of Instructions or a Map for Guidance & Directions and at times life has seemed very disorientating.

But life really is a journey. When you pause long enough to take a breath and consider the road you're travelling along, very often the signposts appear at the right place and at the right time. You can then either continue along your chosen route, double back or take a left or a right turn. What I do know is: 'If it's for you; it'll nae go by you'

Elderly Relatives & Lost Marbles

2007-09-02T16:44:00.000+01:00

When my Dad turned 65 earlier this year, he reluctantly donned the mantle of the family 'elderly relative' and plays out this role with great aplomb and vigour. If Victor Meldrew from 'One Foot in the Grave' fame had a younger brother, Dad would be him and could no doubt teach him a thing or two about being a grumpy old man!

Fortunately for us, we don't take Dad's grumping too seriously (not that it's really intended anyway) nor are we conned into believing he is the token 'elderly relative' of the family despite his Oscar winning performances at times and therefore feels he is entitled to grump whenever he feels like it.

65 they say is the new 40 (some way for me to go then!) and Dad's health and fitness puts us younger family members to shame; he can clamber up the cliffs and over the rocks without any problem and still march uphill like the Grand Old Duke of York without getting out of puff whilst grumping along in full swing.

What he's not so hot at is remembering!

A few years back, the family joke was that Dad had 'lost his marbles' (a euphemism for being forgetful); my younger sister Sarah presented him with a bag of marbles one Christmas complete with fabric drawstring bag and ever since then he takes his bag of marbles with him wherever and whenever he travels. This way, should anyone ask if he has lost his marbles, he can quite truthfully say "No, they are here in this bag!"

On a recent visit up here, Dad forgot his bag of marbles - oh dear!

The consequences of the 'lost marbles' were: Dad leaving me a phone number to ring to extend the return date of his library books which turned out to be the phone number for his barber (thank goodness there was no answer - can you imagine that conversation!); Dad successfully deleted all his photos from his digital camera following a boat trip out to a rather remote and inaccessible island (so inaccessible the opportunity for landing on it are limited to about twice a year!); and then on his return home Dad couldn't locate his back door keys and was unable to gain entry into his kitchen. When the keys were finally found they had been put in a 'safe' place by my sister because said elderly relative had left them along with other keys in the door.

And his bag of marbles? Well we are still desperately looking for them! If anyone should find them, please return them urgently................................................................

PS: Love you Dad, you are the best xxx

The Pebble Exchange

2007-08-28T21:36:00.000+01:00

The Pebble Exchange sits in the middle of our breakfast table and is filled with an array of pebbles, shells and other stones as well as a lobster claw and a candle. The pebbles and shells have been collected from around the beaches where I live and were initially placed on the table in the glass platter to add a bit of colour, a focus and a talking point over breakfast for guests staying with us.

Over time we have noticed that pebbles come and go as do the shells - guests take a little bit from the platter with them as a reminder of their stay with us and guests bring us back little bits of beach treasure from their forays on to the beaches and the walks around the island. It's quite amazing to think that small pieces of our home and life are scattered around the four corners of the world creating invisible links and connections between different continents, many nationalities, all religions and any number of cultures.

The Pebble Exchange (as we now affectionately call this glass platter) reflects life for us here on the island and I suppose this also applies to life in general - you give a little and you take a little and as long as there is a balance, life works just fine.

The Paradox of Our Age

2007-08-26T20:52:00.000+01:00

Several years ago I took an active interest in Buddhism and like most things along life's pathway I 'borrowed' certain aspects and added them to my 'survival' toolkit.

Like handbags, toolkits need emptying every now and again and sorting out - what fun! It's like Pandora's box - I'm never quite sure what I'm going to find but it's always fun re-discovering long lost items and reconnecting with them. Remembering where they were bought or acquired, who gave them to me and why were they kept.

By doing this I am able to remind myself of some of the more important things in life - usually the small and seemingly insignificant but always truthful! One such reminder happened along quite recently at a very apt time and every time I read it I think to myself 'Oh how true is that?'

I have included the words (in a photograph) of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama - 'The Paradox of Our Age'. His wisdom is written on a parchment scroll and is displayed on my office door...................this way I intend to keep it in my life and not just in the 'survival' toolkit to tip out and turn to only in times of crisis and need.

Does anyone else share the same sentiments?

My very secret love affair.......................

2007-08-20T20:22:00.000+01:00

What is it about books?

I just love and adore them; I am passionate about books - I can't walk past a bookshop without diving in and having a good old rummage and browse amongst the shelves - up high or down low; and I can never leave a bookshop without making at least one, if not two purchases, or is it three or four......... ?

Is it the size and shape? (does size really matter after all!), is it the colour of the dust jacket? the design on the front? the title of the book itself? Whatever it is, there is something about a book that is so very inviting! How can an inanimate object seem to have a life and a will all of its own? Why do they speak to me, woo and seduce me?

I read several books simultaneously - they are stacked on the floor in no particular order by the bed and I dip in and out of them until they have all been read and completely absorbed. For me books are like a box of chocolates - different flavours and centres for every conceivable mood for every day of the year..............whatever the season, whatever the weather or the time of day.

I am a slave to this secret love affair (although not quite so secret now).
Does anyone else feel like this about books or is it just me?

Fuchsia's first foray......................

2007-08-17T06:41:00.000+01:00

This is fun.........I think? I've never blogged before although I've heard about it off and on over the past 2-3 years from the island-blogging phenomenon. I'm not really sure what I'm going to be doing with this blog or where I'm going with it, other than write about and share some of my experiences about Life on Mull..............the Isle of Mull, that is, which may be considered by some to be not so very different to Life on Mars!

This rather stunning sunset was taken from my front garden last month. I think you'll agree it is awesome.