The hard yards ...

Okay, I bet you think that being married for 30 years entitles a guy to a couple of days R&R, but you would be way off the mark. A day of rest is like a red rag to a bull as far as my wife is concerned. I have no excuse as I should have figured this one out very early in our relationship. Just after we met she came up to Glasgow to visit me and I took her driving in the Highlands. I had foolishly suggested that we go to Glen Coe and climb into the Lost Valley (Coire Gabhail) which is a hidden valley where the MacDonalds of Glen Coe hid their rustled cattle. The Walkhighlands guide describes our plan thus: 

“A visit involves a very rough but intensely dramatic and scenic walk.”

When we stopped in the car park in Glen Coe the rain was bucketing down sideways in a gale force wind (a not uncommon occurrence in Scotland). I immediately suggested we retreat to the picturesque Ballachulish Hotel for a leisurely lunch instead. Halfway through lunch I realised I had made a serious mistake. My future wife was working herself up into a serious rage which I quickly diagnosed as resulting from us "taking the easy option". So back we went and climbed into the Valley in the absolutely atrocious conditions. The reward was a beaming Cath and our fledgling relationship was saved.

So after a day of relative leisure on our wedding anniversary, I knew today was going to be a rough one in terms of manual labour. True to form the inevitable transpired. The west side of our shed is adjacent to a steep cutaway which is being eroded in an alarming manner, resulting in large deposits of sodden clay falling into the drain next to the shed. The previous owners started to build a rock wall similar to the one we built during our isolation (and described in a previous post), but it was a pretty ordinary attempt which was abandoned when the wall was about two stones high. Unfortunately, the access is too narrow to allow entry to any serious machinery so building the wall is a manual job. That is what Cath decreed was suitable penance for yesterday. We are now absolutely shattered after lugging massive rocks around all day and manipulating them into position to form a rather beautiful wall. The problem is that we are only a quarter of the way through the build …

The other news to report is that we have become the proud owners of a flamethrower. I thought at first it might be one of gadgets that you see on Masterchef to flame the pavlova or crystallise the sugar on the crème brûlée, but no this is the real deal. The idea is to be as organic as possible and not to use poison if it can be avoided. There are, however, some serious little thistle-type weeds that are all over the property. The only solution other than digging them out by hand is to burn them. I have to say this weapon looks slightly terrifying when it is burning at full throttle.