What’s the Story in Dalamory

It was interesting to discover comments o­n my BBC islandblog page. http://www.bbc.co.uk/scotland/whereilive/westernhighlandsandislands/islandblogging (hopefully). However, I was a bit thrown when walking into church yesterday to have a comment made about the comment – which at that time I had not read. The main problem with the BBC project is that all entries have to be “moderated” or checked, prior to posting. Fair enough when there are young people involved, but it does make it difficult to remember what o­ne has written. Thus I have now devised a scheme whereby I keep a copy o­n file. I now have two entries awaiting publication, o­ne dated Sunday 21st Dec and the other Mon 29th Dec. It is therefore clear that it is hardly possible to be topical and up to date.

Mind you, what does that mean in a world where I am blurbling o­n about blogs, whilst 25,000 people have been killed at Bam in Iran? I was thinking that the Wise Men could actually have travelled from there to Bethlehem to find the Christ child.

Boxing Day as a day off consisted of getting up very late, walking the dog in the forest and playing with slides and scanner o­n the computer. Today it is back to preparing the services for tomorrow and thinking about urgent visits.

No further sightings of the golden eagle. Has he gone away for the holidays I wonder?

Christmas Day would not be the same without the excitement of the aforementioned lift in the fast boat. I seem to remember last year that there was a problem with the engine. This year, the two crew were fast approaching the slip, o­ne at the helm, the other o­n the engine…..”There's no reverse….”

They stopped somehow by grabbing the slipway side and using sheer brute force. Just as well I really do trust them. The ride over the Cuan Sound at a fast rate of knots is all the more enjoyable when o­ne is contemplating how they will stop at the other side. Especially as I am in the bow under the cabin-top. In other words – I am due to hit first.

Happy Boxing Day.

Two services today – Luing and Seil with a fast boat in between. (The ferry is o­n holiday.) I do not know who is coming to collect me or deliver me back. Trust is a wonderful thing. As are the fishermen of Luing.

Happy Christmas

I could not believe my eyes yesterday. A golden eagle was bouncing about in the field next to the house. It seemed to be acting more like a blackbird than the largest of the raptors….hopping from feathered foot to feathered foot, then stopping – head o­n o­ne side, then pouncing o­n something in the long grass. Too hard to identify the prey, but the eagle was obviously enjoying a good feast. I wasn't sure of its identity until it flapped enormous wings as if stretching after all the hard work. It was also there too long for me to watch until it flew away.

Who said living in the country was dull?

Yesterday the o­ne postal delivery of the day arrived at 6-30pm. It left me with the decision of whether to open everything then and there, or leave the pile for the next morning. It also left me wondering what hours the deliverers are having to work.

I wonder what times the bins will be emptied tomorrow.

The start of a busy week. I find myself needing to listen to the very things I preach. For example, we are now at a stage in the run-up or run-down to Christmas Day when the o­nly thing to do is to relax, join in the retelling of the familiar stories, just let it happen and become part of the never-ending story of God's love.

Why is it so hard to listen?

Today had to rate as o­ne of the best forgotten crossings o­n the Cuan passenger ferry. The gale had whipped the sea up into a white-water extravaganza. But what made it so dreadful was the snow and sleet shower that just happened to coincide with the 1-00pm crossing. It was not so much fear that was the problem, rather disbelief that myself and several other people were putting ourselves through it. Still – you have to get to the other side.

Sometimes I think I must be daft to work here.

Last night I went carol singing with the Drama Group. Not easy logistically o­n an island with very separate communities. However, around ten of us set off with luminous swizzle sticks and torches. We were well kitted up in umpteen layers of clothes, hats and tinsels, and it didn't take long to get into the swing of things. People found it hard to understand that we were there to give pleasure rather than to collect money, but they appreciated the home-made cards and novelty. Trouble is it started to rain. This led us to get silly and try to find new carols and songs more appropriate for our winter weather……

Jingling in the rain…… A soggy wet manger….  Hark the soaking angels sing…..  Have yourself a weary windy Christmas…..   While shepherds dripped upon their flocks…..  It was o­n a watery night, when the folk took fright, at the sight of us, glistening in the rain…..

We kept going till the carol sheets were smudged beyond recognition.
Then it was the bliss of a warm welcome, hot chocolate and punch at a friendly house….
Can't wait till next year.

I went to the pantomime last night – the Oban version of Sleeping Beauty. There is nothing quite like live, interactive entertainment. That is to say there is nothing like being there. Pantomime does not work o­n TV, not enough chance to shout He's behind you or to boo and hiss at the Wicked Witch. It was great to try and spot the people I knew – always hard behind greasepaint and costume – and wonderful to see the full cast at the final line-up. Long may the tradition last.

Oh yes it will……