Other: The Days Fly By...
Just north of Crieff, at the base of the Sma’ Glen (apparently, slurred diction has achieved official status here), the closest mark on a map is the hamlet of Amulree, population: sheep. Many of the knitters are quite delighted to be out in the country and looking at fields of sheep, but that’s pretty much where I come from anyways. One thing different is that they have pheasants here like we have deer at home: dumb as bricks and just as slow to cross the road, too. Handsome bird, though, and an obvious target for hunters: you really can’t see one for more than thirty seconds without wanting to shoot it.
Travellers Cheques have been a disappointment: businesses don’t want to take them, or they want to apply a surcharge. Bugger that noise! We’ve already paid for them once, and these are supposed to be cash!
One pick-up today, and the car just gets easier to use. The Reanult handles wonderfully, even if the power is a little lacking. Fine for these curvy little trails, though I miss my bike in a mean way.
This could be harder than I thought – One guest has complained that she wanted to watch FOX, and that they talk too much on BBC News. That’s because it’s a news show, dear…
Day 10 – Dallick House
Five more folks to pick up today, then the rest of the time in the kitchen or scullery, which I’ve already dubbed the Dish Pit.
Our FOX fan started talking about the virtues of colloidal silver curing her of pneumonia. But, she says, she prayed too, so she couldn’t tell which actually cured her. A Bush supporter as well, shocking no one. I’m afraid I had to leave the room before I ended up asking her if she were real or a stereotype come to life! The SO keeps reminding me that not only are we employees, but we’re also stuck with these folks for the next ten days or so, so STAY POLITE.
There is a new contestant for “Most Annoying Guest” now: she’s gone from being merely elderly and frail to old and feeble. She’s got a fluttery, “bird-stunned-by-a-window” approach to life, and MAN that grates on the nerves. There is a difference between needing help and asking for it and needing help and mewing piteously until someone notices.
Okay, okay: end of rant.
Day 11 – In D-House
Last couple in today (from my home town, oddly) and lessons have begun. Most of the prep has been caught up, and we’re starting to find what patterns work best for what meals. Which is good, because these are long bloody days.
Actually heard a cuckoo today, and yes, they really do sound like that. Here I am thinking Swiss clockmakers invented the noise out of some perverse sense of humour, but no. If it hadn’t moved from place to place, I’d have sworn the thing was made of wood.
Day 12 – Dallick House
I’d like you to think of what that phrase means to you, and what sort of image it brings to mind: Fresh Pineapple. Got a picture? Good.
Does it use the words “Includes spork”?
There are occasional hazards when ordering food on line, and one of them included asking for fresh pineapple and getting 200 grams of sliced pineapple in a little cellophane packet with a spork included. Hm.
It seems that I have been far too optimistic about my chances for sex on this trip: the Significant Other has pulled her third 16-hour day, and I’ve been doing 13s, so we just haven’t been up to much. Tomorrow, however, we herd the ducklings into a van where they become someone else’s problem for a good 10 hours… They’re off to Edinburgh to walk the Royal Mile from the castle to Hollyrood House. Downhill, you’ll note: very wise.
Day 13 – Dilly Haese
Aaaaand they’re OFF! Up a bit earlier today (for the SO that’s 4:30) to see the folks away; then we spent some time catching up on cleaning and prepping for dinner tonight. Then fucking like mink in heat for a couple hours. That sort of thing builds up, don’t you know! Can’t be good for you to hold off for days at a time.
Went in to Crieff to buy some little bottles of liquor for recipes and a couple more postcards (probably our biggest single expense so far this trip) and back for a nap and a little more sex. Then it’s back to work for Herself, and I can write a little something for the blog before heading inside. On the upside, the ducklings are going out on four more excursions, one of which we’ll be joining them on (the distillery tours, natch!).
What do you mean Anaheim’s kicking ass? Tell me again why Vancouver fired Brian Burke?