Category Archives: Home and Family

Dear Thomas

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J & D > Spare a thought – a prayer, if you will – for our dear boy Thomas.  He’s been missing for about eight weeks, now.  We’ve spent countless hours searching for him, setting cat-sized cage traps, but with no luck so far. For now, it being high summer, he’ll probably be enjoying living wild. But come the autumn, from the first big storms and into the winter, Uist is too wet, windy and exposed for cats.  Here, feral cats have very short, very hard lives.  We have, for now, given up pro-active searching, because there have not been any sightings for a month.  But there’s hope yet!

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Mucking Out & Making Good

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Posting to this blog has lost momentum. Until the purchase of our house in Wales is completed, we daren’t allow ourselves much freedom to make plans for our new lives there.  Similarly, until both our remaining properties here are sold, we have to work hard and keeping things going here, just in case things don’t work out as well as planned.   We really can’t afford to let ourselves get stuck in limbo-land.  So, for now, we’re just getting on with the mucking out and making good – whether for the benefit of us or those who follow.

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Time’s Up?

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Over the course of nearly twenty years here, in Uist, we’ve been very fortunate to have forged for ourselves, from scratch, a way of living and working that has (mostly) suited us very well.  In doing so we’ve had to learn how to do a lot of things we’d never done before (some we’d always wanted to, but most we knew nothing about).  We’ve learned to be self-sufficient, to stand on our own two feet ; and we’ve also learned to truly appreciate and value the time and talents of our neighbours. We’ve become more confident in our own capabilities, but also more conscious of limitations – whether our own or those inherent to human life – to all life. There are only so many hours in the day, days in the year, years to a life ; and we have but one of those.

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A Flurry of Posts?

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J > No, not a new collective noun for hyperactive blogging !  The sudden rush of posts in the past couple of days, some of them back-dated, is not due to a sudden burst of creativity or energy (or, at least, not entirely).  It’s just me finishing off a pile of part-complete posts stretching back to last autumn, when I was – to be frank – somewhat depressed by the loss of what psychiatrists term ‘agency’ – the perception that your affairs are under your own control. I know, we’re so fortunate here in Uist, as far as Covid-19 restrictions and safety are concerned, but …

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North meets Med

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Denise >

Bread – the staple of the northern European diet ; with olives – the qunitessence of the Mediterranean diet.

An Garradh Mor : Sour-dough bread with olives

An Garradh Mor : Sour-dough bread with olives

Nicely sums up our lives – J and I.

And very very yummy!

Brrr!

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J > It’s eight or nine years ago that Denise and I were struggling to find the money to pay for these top specification triple-glazed windows from Norway.  But thank heavens we did.  I think back winter nights as a child, scratching with my finger through the powdery frost on the inside of my bedroom window, so that the moon would cast patterns on the opposite wall.

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At The Dimming Of The Day

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J & D > From the east bedroom window, the light is failing fast. With the sun now below the south-western horizon – behind the islands to the south west, the shadow of the Isle of Barra casts darkness over the southern end of Uist, and the waters of The Minch.  In the far distance – 30 miles to the east, its just the the snow-covered peaks of the Isle of Rhum that catch the last rays of roseate light that passes over the top of the lower hills of Uist and Barra.

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Remains Of The Day

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J & D > No, not the famous book ; and, no, with all those trees, this is definitely not in Uist!

Here we have a photo by our daughter Becky, whose natural talent is clearly evident in this exceptionally well composed and captured photo (though luck does certainly have a role in these things).  And for such a small image file, the quality is remarkable.

The viewpoint is above the Towy valley, in Wales.  This is the sort of landscape that Denise and I hope to get to know better, next spring – hopefully.

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A Bracing Walk?

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D > We pulled on boots and coats, and set off for a simple walk along the lane to the hill fence, up the old sheep fank on the side of the hill, and back again.  We went out empty-handed – we didn’t even have our phones or cameras ; and certainly no guns.  And yet, we came back with a couple of brace of widgeon!

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Final Reading

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Jonathan & Denise >

We’ve sold Eight Askernish.   After taking the final reading of the electricity meters, we’ve handed over the keys to the new owner, who has moved to the Outer Hebrides from Monmouthshire – in south-east Wales.

8 Askernish, Isle of South Uist

Leaving 8 Askernish for the last time, after final reading of the meters and handing over the keys

The last booking was a disaster, the guests badly abusing the cottage and leaving us traumatised and seriously out of pocket.

That’s such a pity, as it’s tarnished our memories of our time owning the cottage.  We put a great deal of hard work, commitment, energy and ideas into the cottage, and got rewards both financial and personal ; but the whole business environment has changed out of all recognition, since we bought the cottage in 2005.  The likes of AirBnB and TripAdvisor are to blame, but they are too big, too powerful to ignore.  So, whilst we can be proud of what we achieved, it was – and it is, time to move on.

The proceeds from the sale will be used – when the opportunity arises – as a (not entirely figurative) downpayment on a new chapter in our lives.

In the meantime – and for the forseeable future, we continue in the self-catering business, focussing on our other self-catering property, in Eriskay.

Straggling Homeward

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Jonathan >

Late afternoon – 3pm at this time of year, and the first still and sunny break for many days. We gather up : coats, boots, Tilly.  From Smercleit, north along the western shore of South Uist as far as Boisdale. We turn there, our lengthening shadows straggling homeward behind us.

Isle of South Uist : Denise at Boisdale beach

5th December 2002, 18 years ago today, a day much like today, we arrived at the walled garden with our ginger cats Molly and Meg, Lady – a wire-haired Jack Russel,  and mile-high hopes for a more fulfilling life.