For with wisdom comes much sorrow;

The more knowledge, the more grief


Snail Camp

Here we are at Cruachan Farm Campsite just outside Killin in Perthshire for our second Snail Camp.

We arrived yesterday afternoon, 8 people and 7 dogs. Time was spent, as it often is in Killin, sitting outside the Falls of Dochart pub with a pint of excellent Inveralmond Brewery real ale, whilst admiring the actual Falls of Dochart roaring over the rocks and away under the bridge.

Followed by a meal in the Coach House and more real ale.

We rolled back to the campsite feeling very happy, very relaxed and very tired! Into the sleeping bags with the big screen firmly zipped shut against that scourge of Scottish summers, the midgies!

The dog, as usual, slept pressed up against the screen, not at all happy with this strange arrangement….

The morning dawned, grey and damp and midgy. I retired to the car to eat my breakfast.

I sat, looking out at the caravans, the wooden “pods” and the scattered tents. There are not many people outside, and those that are can be seen scratching themselves at intervals and moving into places where the breeze is catching.

We are gathering now ready to climb our first hill of the holiday – Meall nan Ptarmigan.

Fireside Musings

I’m really not sure it will catch on. The Christmas Tree is standing in its holder in the corner. But it is naked. Unclothed. Minimalism taken to an extreme.
It has been there for two days, having been extracted with some difficulty from the front porch. And I am kind of getting used to it – but I can’t help thinking it misses the point.
I could have decorated it, dressed it, this evening. But I am lying quite comfortably by the wood burner, which is blazing nicely, having been fed some pieces of the old floor from the church, nice dry oak wood. The dog is sprawled on the rug, her head on my legs, slumbering peacefully. I have a glass of red wine to hand & am recovering, warming up nicely after a chilly winter walk on the beach.
The boxes of baubles have been disinterred from the glory hole & are perched on the rocking chair. Perhaps if I concentrate really hard, I can transfer them to the tree without having to move…….
It isn’t working…..I am reminded of that bit in the bible where Jesus talks about moving mountains if you have faith enough. Perhaps baubles are too trivial a thing to waste faith on….or perhaps he was being figurative rather than literal.
The present buying rigmarole has been completed, the wrapping process still to come.
And the turkey has been ordered. It is probably roosting just now, blissfully unaware of its fate. Or perhaps it has a vague uneasy feeling that all is not well…
So the tree can wait I think, and join the rest of us, waiting, waiting, for a day.