What’s the Story in Dalamory

Moving home is high up o­n the stress factors list – not quite as high as death or divorce, but I can vouch for the toll that stress is taking. It is the stupid things like finding places for the spare toilet rolls, and trying to make decisions about whether books are to be stored in the loft, given away or sold o­n the Amazon marketplace. We do have four-channel TV, but world events at the moment are hard to take. It feels as if my world is all arrayed in boxes. It is a bit like the university years of travelling back and forth between Kilmarnock and St Andrews. The boxes were a regular feature at the beginning and end of each term.

Come to think of it, this is a bit like starting a new term, except that I can take all the time I need to tidy myself up.

Things have been so confused that we have decided to extend the cat’s sentence in cat prison to next Tuesday.

Sorry Fox.

First day of my official retiral. So far it is all about unpacking boxes and looking for things. We are off to a birthday party in the village hall tonight. Sounds like a good way to meet people, (and try to remember their names.) After a hiatus of several days we now have TV reception and can see the news. It is very moving to see people all over the world holding vigil for the Pope. But I am firmly fixed o­n life and living and finding a new way to be.

By the way, does anyone want to buy a herd of elephants?

Still moving. It is just as well the dog and the cat are away for the duration, though there is a dog kennel that might have provided a solution.Come to think of it, if things get too bad, I shall hide in the kennel myself.

It is the day of the removal. Or rather, the first of the three days of the removal.

I guess you can imagaine the bourach. (Sort of Gaelic/Scottish for muddle or mess – literally a confused heap….that says it all.)

It is the Day Before Tomorrow – and tomorrow the removal begins. Thus the cat is going to the cat prison today. He has been leaving us undelecate morsels of mice to persuade us to reconsider. But we are adamant. He might stow away anywhere. He can stay away snug and warm until the end of the week.

He is risen!

What else needs to be said. I saw a poster in Oban that says that Easter is about more than chocolate eggs. Perhaps people do need to be reminded, but I like the idea of a joyful church service plus the chocolate eggs.

Our corner of Argyll is full of visitors at the moment. Canoists, hikers, bird-watchers and golfers….each person to their own hobby. Mine might be simply to quietly thank God for this special day and for the new start in life which is coming along. Our new church community has been very welcoming and we know God's presence and welcome in amongst the people.

Today is the hiatus between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Holy Saturday…..an odd kind of day. It is as if the Christian world holds its breath waiting for the dawning of the new day. Some churches start their celbrations of Easter Day o­n the Saturday evening. That has never made much sense. I prefer the idea of a dawn service o­n a hill. There must be something of the pagan left in my soul somewhere! My favourite early Easter service was at St Andrews. Judging by the number of people who turned out for it, loads of others thought the same way.

Unless they were all there for the bacon butties after the service!

More news has come through of the dog – proving that she is not just a dumb blonde.

By the end of her second day as an evacuee she had learnt several things:
1) Her canine hostess is now a little old lady. (This is the 15yr old springer spaniel.)
2) She can therefore comandeer the best places in the house to lie down. (Basically where there are rugs o­n the polished floor.)
3) She can take control of any toys.
4) The most interesting activities in the house take place around the front door and the Dogs' Room.
5) She does not get treats for being a good dog.
6) The stepmaster can – and does – give her rows.
7) An empty glove used as a tool for chastisement is effective.
8) There is no longer any pleasure in chasing the poultry – they don't run away from her now.

She seems to be having a good time!

Still decorating. But looking forward to going to Maundy Thursday Communion at our new local church. Campervans come in very handy at times like these.