our new house

We moved into our new house last month. There is still a fair bit to do but it is up and running and we are living our lives in it. It is wonderful, big, warm, airy, stylish, beautiful....I could go on a and on with adjectives. It hasn't sunk in yet that we have done it but I think that's because we're not finished and we are so very tired. There is also the small matter of getting a completion certificate, curtains and furniture. There is still a fair bit of work to do. Turning this house into a home is a work in progress.

For the moment, we are enjoying the heating system, the dishwasher (no more washing dishes for me), the cleanliness and newness of it, the light, the windows, the views, the privacy, the spa bath, the powerful showers, visitors. 

1st dance exam

My girl has started Highland Dancing. She really enjoys it. She just had her first dance exam. She is very keen to get a medal! She danced really well but won't get her medal until the prize-giving at the end of June. That is, if she has won one - it is a secret and they won't tell until the day. How awful is that? She is 4 years old. Imagine if we go to a prize-giving and she is excitedly expecting a medal and doesn't get one. She would be so upset and I couldn't bear it. When she is upset she is very upset! After having to pay money for the exam, buy a costume and pumps I sincerely hope she does get a medal. She deserves one. 

cut off from all communications

In case you are wondering where I've been I just want to say I'm still here but I'm in a communications wilderness. The reason is we've moved into our new house. Yippee! At last! But because we are just a little disorganised we have moved in with no broadband connection, no TV, no radio reception (except local radio and there is no real news on it) and the nearest newsagents is 15 miles away. We didn't have a phone line until a few days ago! And our mobile reception is dreadful. I was enjoying being in blissful ignorance of the world and being free from the constant demands all this media and information technology places on you. We have been singing, watching films on DVD, playing music and reading, having conversations and just sitting in silence listening to the birds singing. Out of everything I miss the internet connection the most.I am just snatching a couple of moments at work to type this. I will be online next week (fingers crossed) and back to blogging about being a highland housewife. I've missed blogging and reading all your blogs. I've missed internet banking, shopping, browsing, news. I actually had to hand write (our printers broken) letters and post them - how quaint!

Valentine Valentine

"We don't do Valentine's. It is just commercial rubbish. Every day is a day for romance with us" said my deluded can't be bothered husband.

"I think setting aside even one day of the year for romance would be a good idea 'cos believe me every day with you is not romantic," I retorted as I wiped mush off the high chair, loaded the washing machine, answered daughters query about the location of Paris on the map and simultaneously swept the floor with the brush stuck up where the sun don't shine. 

Only once when we were dating did he send me a card on valentine's day. I can't exactly describe it as a valentine's card because it wasn't. It was a scenic view postcard a tourist might buy. He didn't choose a valentine's card because they were in the shop his ex-girlfriend worked in. It was very early stages and I sent him the only card I could find that didn't mention love or sex. 

He did buy me chocolates twice on random occasions while we were dating. The first time half the top layer was missing because he got hungry on the journey and the second time he left them in a woman's car and she thought they were for her. Now when he buys me chocolates he hovers over me excitedly waiting for me to open them. Sometimes, to torment him I say I am saving them for Wednesday or a day far into the week ahead. Then when I open them I eat them quicker than I want to just to make sure I get my share. One Easter, there were no eggs left in the shops so I bought us a large bar of Galaxy each. He polished off his instantly and I ate half and saved the other half. I came home from work looking forward to sitting down with a coffee, a magazine and my chocolate....but...I couldn't find it. I was raging. He had eaten it. How low is that.

Another occasion springs to mind. He popped out one Easter Sunday morning and when he came back called up the stairs ( I was still in bed), "I've got a surprise for you." Excitedly, I bounded down the stairs like a little kid. I can't tell you how disappointed I was when he produced a danish pastry. I cast it up to him every year.

I don't want slush and cutesy but just some old-fashioned cherishing, a bit of effort and undivided attention. I used to think Valentine's was embarrassing commercial nonsense but now I think it is a great idea to have at least one day in your calendar dedicated to romance.

This year for Valentine's day I am leaving him at home with the kids. Daughter has made him a lovely card in nursery and a heart shaped sweetie so he will be happy with that. I will be even happier because I will be in Edinburgh for the whole weekend wandering city streets and bars, getting a city haircut and going to a fancy dress party in the flat of one of my bestest old friends who is 40 on Valentine's Day. Her postie will think her very popular when he delivers a stack of cards to her on Saturday.

a little rant about being a working mum

I am already feeling a little disatisfied by my new job. The problem is that I'm just not that into it. I had also expected the college to be a vibrant, exciting place to work but it's not. It is disorganised. The terms and conditions are not great and there is no career progression, pension, holiday pay, sick pay etc so there is a high turnover of staff. If you need resources you get them too late, if at all. It is all a bit haphazard and there is no-one who has been there long enough to know how everything works. My boss is always really busy and can't see anyone because she is doing something that involves acronyms no-one has heard of. 

The two days I work are long and the kids are tired and cranky at the end of them. They are woken early and taken to their Granny's where they are happy, loved and well-cared for. We don't get home until 6pm when I try to settle two grumpy tots in to the house after waking them from sleep in the car and make dinner. Husband usually arrives once dinner is made! We're finished dinner by 7pm and then it is time to get ready for bed to start again the next day. Two days a week like that is enough. So when I was asked to increase my days and take on the role of course leader (for no extra money but a little extra paid time for a lot of extra work and hassle) I thought about it. I started thinking about money and almost got sucked in to tying myself up with a job that would take over my time and take me away from my little ones and all for a career path I'm not sure I want. So, I said thanks but no thanks. Two days is enough for me right now. Phew! 

I am lucky at this time of recession to have this opportunity but I need to be available for my children while they are young. It is a decision I made before I had them. I have just had two lovely days at home with them doing housework, playing, dancing, going for walks in the snow and visiting friends which confirms for me it is the right decision. 

Then to top it off I have to study for my new job. I have to find time to fit in 120 hours of study between now and June. I can scarcely find one hour!

Celebrating Robert Burns

Today is the 250th anniversary of the birth of Robert Burns. He was a bit of a lad in his day but he left Scotland and the world a powerful legacy of poetry and song that 250 years later is sung and recited all over the world. At New Year I always think of all the people around the world joining hands and singing Auld Lang Syne. 

At the new house the acoustics are amazing (something to do with it being empty and as yet uncluttered) and I found myself belting out 'My love is like a red, red rose' and 'Auld Lang Syne' and other songs and doing half-baked recitations of poems.

After waiting a long time for The Complete Poems and Songs of Robert Burns to come in stock at Amazon (and giving up), I found the book I had been longing for during a grocery shop at Lidl and on sale for £2.99. Shopping at Lidl often throws up little surprises but this was totally unexpected. Anyway, the book came in to its own today as I recited Address to a Haggis on placing a haggis, 'Great Chieftain o' the pudding-race!', on the dinner table.

'And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reekin', rich!'

 My husband listened politely,  my son tucked in and my daughter hadn't even arrived at the table yet as she "hates" haggis. 

Then after dinner we sang and recited 'Such a parcel of rogues in a nation' amongst others. England didn't take Scotland by force and make us join them in the Act of Union. No, Scotland was given away by a few  Lowland Scots concerned with gaining access to the Commonwealth. The people of Scotland didn't get a choice in the matter. 

'We're bought and sold for English gold - 

Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!'

The older I get the more I appreciate Burns' work. His language, his ability to get to the heart of the matter, his choice of subjects such as a mouse, a louse and the Holy Willies of the world. I'm off now to make a cup of tea in time to watch a TV programme of Burns poetry and song.

I've decided to celebrate Burns night every year with a haggis, music, song and recitations. My challenge for next year will be to be able to recite some Burns without reading from my book!

Country comes to town

We went to Dublin for Christmas to visit the in-laws.  After months in the dark, wintry countryside we just love getting in to the city. Especially my daughter who is only 4 but possesses all the confidence and poise of a grown woman. She lives in a tiny village in the highlands but the minute she hits the city streets you'd think she'd always lived in the city. She wasn't always like this. She used to act like she had been held in captivity, shouting from the top of escalators, "Hello people." Standing arms outstretched, eyes filled with wonderment, exclaiming, "look at all my people." She thought they were all there for her, well toddlers are like that, they think the world is all about them. Her little brother is at that stage now. He is 18 months old and walking down the busy shopping street holding his daddy's hand he did a little dance and shouted "Hiya, hiya, hiya," to everyone that passed. In our little country village everyone says hello, but not in the city. 

My daughter loves the hustle bustle, the buzz, the shops, cafes, lights, people and all the things there are to do like visit zoos, theatres, the beach and the parks. Especially the parks. There is a beautiful park near her grandparents. Everything is made of wood and there are lots of wooden animals including a herd of cows. The park is very popular and was full of children as usual. My child, of course, was the only child playing at milking the wooden cow. She pulled on its wooden udders for a good few minutes before offering me a go. No thanks, not today. I should have said yes but I was thinking about what the other mums would think. I have never seen any city kids try to milk that cow. Country comes to town indeed.

Everything is breaking down

The tumble dryer has no heat. 

The dyson has no suction. There is a label on it that says 'never loses suction'.

The sky digibox is kaput. Even the man in the call centre agrees.

The printer does not print. (Yes, I tried new cartridges. Yes, I switched it off and on again.)

The DVD remote control is lost and the toddler boy is getting the blame. (Actually, I just found it after 2 weeks of searching. It was in the book case hidden from the kids - by me!)

Oh and MFI went bust before giving us a VAT receipt. They can't give us one now because they sold the printers. That is actually what they told me. They have still to replace a broken cabinet and a length of plinth. At least we got our kitchen.

My house is resembling a grubby laundry. Damp clothes hang everywhere. The carpets are thick with dust, hair, crumbs and God knows what else. My 4 year-old daughter said, "I wish our house was as clean as everybody else's." I could have died with shame.

Six things you may or may not want to know about me

I have been tagged by tarte tartan to write 6 things about myself.

I get great satisfaction from emptying a blocked pore.

I am scared I will get ill and die young.

I miss my Grandpa who died 2 years ago. I spent a lot of time with him and loved him dearly.

My husband proposed to me on a ferris wheel despite being scared of heights.

I am very indecisive. I can never make up my mind and sometimes feel frozen by the choices I have and end up doing nothing then regretting it. I always regret it when I let my head rule my heart. 

I want to be 18 again and make some different choices. It is true that youth is wasted on the young. Oh to be young again.

there are beasts that roar in yonder hill

My wee girl and I went out into the garden at bedtime when it was very dark. We wanted to look at the stars as the night before had been magnificent. Millions upon millions of bright stars peppered the black sky. So we made a pact that once our toddler boy was in bed we would wrap up warm and go out to look at them. She was so excited to be going out to look at the stars but there were none. It was a cloudy night. I remembered we had a packet of glow sticks that I had bought for Hallowe'en guising but forgotten to take with us. We twirled them making tunnels and waves and circles. They painted the dark in yellow, blue and green.  The nosey next door neighbour opened her window to peer out at us. We ignored her and carried on having fun and swapping colours. A loud, deep roar erupted in the silence of the night. My wee girl bolted inside to the far end of the house. I ran after her to reassure her and coax her back out but there was no way she was going back out there. It was just a stag in a nearby hill. You could say she shows good instincts to flee from something with surging testosterone.

Hallowe'en in the village

Hallowe'en is traditionally observed in our village. That means the children go guising (not trick or treating) and we observe traditional customs such as dooking for apples. Pumpkins have become a feature of Hallowe'en relegating the turnip to a thing of the past. I had a lovely witches costume for my daughter but would she wear it? No. She didn't want to be a horrible witch she wanted to be a pretty ballerina. No amount of cajoling, threatening to go out guising without her worked. In the end she went as a ballerina. H took her and her little brother, dressed as a pumpkin, round the houses. My girl belted out a gaelic song in each house and they came home with a bag so heavy she couldn't carry it. 

After guising we went to the hotel for the Hallowe'en party. There were loads of children there and all in great disguise. I was worried my little boy would be scared but he joined in and was up dancing and running around screaming in delight. 

Once the children were settled in bed I went down to the hotel for the adults Hallowe'en party. It is an annual event that everyone makes a point of going to. This year I went as a witch - again. The funniest was when some of the villagers came dressed up as other villagers. People were meeting themselves. They all laughed. Everyone laughed. We played silly party games, rank and danced and just had good clean nonsense. 

The next night I stayed in while H played for a barn dance which was a shed warming party. It is a big shed.

We celebrated guy fawkes with the usual bonfire and fireworks. I don't actually know why we mark the occasion as it is an English event that happened before Scotland was joined to England in the Act of Union. The kids didn't come with me as my daughter doesn't like the bangs so refused to come and my little boy fell asleep in his high chair while rubbing potatoes into his hair. We are all exhausted as they haven't adjusted to the clocks going back so get up at 6am. 

The house is progressing well. The sewage and rainwater pipes are in and the ground has been levelled off by the digger and we have a large flattish garden area. It looks huge. Inside, is plodding on. The downturn in the building trade hasn't affected here yet. All our tradesmen are busy. 

We definitely won't be in for Christmas at this rate and we have decided to aim for sometime in January. It will be better to finish it and do a good job rather than cut corners and rush to get in. I just can't wait to live there and get out of this shoebox in a goldfish bowl. 

village social life

We are working non-stop on the house and getting tired. There are just not enough hours in the day but this weekend I found time to socialise. A strange thing happens in our Highland village. As daylight gradually disappears and tourists largely disappear for the winter our social calendar suddenly fills up. It is our attempt to make the winter bearable and to prevent isolation setting in but it is also the time of year when many people have more free time to reconnect with their friends and their community. 

I joined my girl friends for a steak in the local hotel. Various locals joined us at different points in the evening and the craic was good. One of my friends is hilarious in her storytelling and had us all roaring with laughter. An estate manager joined us and periodically roared like a stag. Literally. It has just been rutting season when the roar of stags reverberated around the hills enclosing us. 

After several drinks we hatched a plan to go back to C's house and meet her visitors, including a childhood friend of her husbands. He had never met C before so we decided it would be funny to go into the house one by one and greet her husband with a familiar kiss on the cheek and say to the friend, "Hi, you must be S, I'm C, pleased to meet you." The poor guy was very confused but decided that I was definitely the real C. So I poured drinks and pretended to know how to work the stereo! Then we put on the music and started dancing. "Is it normally like this on a Friday?" he asked. "Oh yes," we lied. He must have thought he'd landed in a very strange land.

The next evening I went out with my husband to a wedding dance. It was great. The band was fantastic and everyone could ceilidh dance. There is nothing like a highland wedding with men in kilts, pipes and dancing. We saw old friends we hadn't seen in ages. 

I don't think I have the stamina for two nights out in a row. It is no use when the kids are bouncing on you at 7am and you only got in at 3am. Next weekend there are two halloween parties and a shed warming. Might manage 1 out of 3.

A week in the life

The house is progressing nicely. All the blockwork is finished and the window cills are in place. We have thick concrete cills and mullions which make the house look really substantial and as though it has been there a while. Inside, the ames taper has finished and we have begun painting. If we had built the house before having kids we could have had it painted by now. I love the little darlings but I can't get doing anything with them around. 

Last weekend my husband was home for the first time in yonks so I had a night out with the girls. We decided to venture beyond our village so I volunteered to drive as I wanted to be fresh for painting the next morning. Also, I was tired and developing a painful sty in my eye. We drove on windy roads for about 40 minutes until we reached the disco. We arrived at the wee stone cottage recently built for traditional ceilidhs but tonight loud music belted out from it and disco lights flashed through the windows. It was the five of us and 20 unfriendly Austrian men. We waded through them (they did not clear a path) to get to the wee bar. C wanted a gin and slim. "We don't do slimline." M wanted a vodka, lime and lemonade. "We don't have lime." G wanted a long vodka. "Stick to two ingredients we told her. I had a diet coke and I felt much too sober to be there. Then we all waded back through the Austrians and sat in a row. The place is so small and narrow that there is not enough space for seats to face each other. The disco lights blinded us shining straight in out eyes and then the smoke machine came on. D nearly had an asthma attack. We opened the door. Someone shut it and more smoke came out the smoke machine. C refused to go to the bar again in case she got pregnant. We drank our drinks slowly and left. We looked out the car windows to see the wee stone building with smoke streaming out the crack round the door. It looked like it was on fire.

On Sunday my husband had a fun day with the kids while I painted and painted and painted our new house. It was wonderful to spend time in it and to be on my own for a few hours. As the roller moved paint up and down the bare walls and the rain streamed through the gutters (they are working, phew!) my mind slowly emptied of the noise and clutter and the endless to do list. It was just me on my own with no questions to answer, no phone to answer, no knocks at the door. I went home feeling happy and relaxed and ate a meal not prepared by me. 

Then Monday morning arrived and with it aching muscles from the painting. I went in to work feeling fairly relaxed as last week had gone well and I was well prepared and the day went well. It is demanding teaching non-stop except for a few short breaks. I wished I had an office job so I might make a coffee, check my email and chat to a colleague. And I realised that is the worst part of this job. I have no real colleagues. The other tutor on the course works different days and I spend the day with students. I have no-one to socialise with at work. I rushed home to prepare dinner.

We still weren't dressed at 10am on Tuesday.  We were having a lovely relaxing morning singing and dancing in our pyjamas when I got a phone call from MFI saying they were outside my house with my kitchen. The kitchen was supposed to be arriving next month and was supposed to be delivered to the new house. "Just give me a few moments to get the kids ready", I said. We rushed out with hair like scarecrows and in ill-matching tracksuits. The delivery van followed me to the new house and we waited a while until the walls of the house being built next to us were moved out of the way by the crane. So now I have half my kitchen in boxes. 

The electrician was there so we went through the list of items I needed to order for his next visit. Things like sockets and lights and all the necessary little things in a house. I went home and ordered the goods immediately then parcelled my girl off to nursery.

That night I had a community council meeting in the local hotel. Afterwards, I went to the bar with my friend and then more friends joined us and we sat sipping wine and chatting by the fire until 2am. The matter-of-fact, no subject taboo, German told us all about his night in a hotel with some girl. He told us he had shaved all over. He always tells me that. It was as if I was there with them such was the detail. A Scots man and an Irish man joined us who have lived in America for over 20 years and were taking Americans on a cultural tour. Some Americans briefly joined us and an old friend joined us. It was very nice but far too late.

On Wednesday all the finishings arrived - doors, skirtings etc. We need to stain them and my brother is starting work fitting them on Monday.

On Thursday I missed a very important meeting to campaign for a Gaelic school. No babysitter available. My husband arrived at it an hour late when it was all over. His shinty commitment was obviously more important than our children's education.

On Friday my husband  managed to do a little bit more painting and remove and clean the scaffolding and that is it. With his work and our kids there has been no time. He is away again this weekend. We could have painted! 

It rained all day today so we played inside and went to the Farm Shop to buy a chicken but came home with so much more. I am sitting in alone again. The kids are sleeping, husband is away and you know what? I quite enjoy my own company. Reading, writing and watching films with a wee glass of wine. 

My wee girl is at last starting to look forward to the new house. Probably because she has got it into her head it will be like a farm.

My girl said, "Guess what we are going to have in the new house?"

"What?"

"I'll give you a clue. It barks, it eats dog biscuits and it has a lead."

"And guess what else we'll have?"

"I don't know"

"It neighs, it eats grass and it lives on grass."

"A cow"

"Yes we'll have a cow but it's not that."

She wants a farm. I just want to be in my new house.

my first day at work

My first day at college started well as I was shadowing a class. I couldn't find my old work bag so carried everything around in a canvas shopper. That's just not very cool, is it? The girls in the class are aged between 15 and 19 with one older one at 23. There are a few confident chatterboxes and the rest are quiet, shy, lacking confidence. They go red when you ask them to talk and just haven't become comfortable in their own skin yet. I had forgotten what an agonisingly self-conscious time it is being a teenager. 

It got worse when without warning I was dumped with the class for the afternoon. I had just received the course materials and was left to get on with it. This was bad. It could set me off on the wrong foot with the class for the rest of the year. They were bound to see I didn't have a clue. All I could do was recap on the mornings work, get them to discuss things in groups and feedback and then I spent some time just getting to know them and hear about their reasons for doing the course and what they would like to do in the future. I confessed I hadn't prepared anything for them as I had not come in to teach them today. They were fine. The real test is Monday when I have to teach them two courses over the whole day. What have I got myself into? At least I am prepared this time.

At lunch I nipped out to see my kids who were coming out of gymnastics. It sounds daft but I was missing them as I love going to gymnastics with them.  They were so happy to see me I could have cried. Later, at home, my baby boy was not talking to me and wouldn't come into  my arms. He wasn't well and had been looked after all day by his Granny and now only wanted her. It was like a punishment for going back to work and dumping him. 

My new boss asked if I had enjoyed the day and getting out of the house. I was never stuck in the house in the first place. We were out doing things every day. There is such an assumption that mothers are desperate to throw off the shackles of domesticity. I used to be but lately I had really been enjoying being a stay-at-home mum. My main motive for going to work is to increase our income. Although, if it works out I will be happy to have a career for myself for the future.

Going back to work part-time

I've been head-hunted! I've been offered a job teaching at the local college 1 day a week. I am delighted and apprehensive and a little reluctant at leaving chaotic domesticity if only for a day. I am looking forward to earning my own money and to being in a college environment but it is a long time since I held an actual job so I am a little unsure. I have to get a CV in to the college tomorrow. I have just written it, right now, at the last minute. The last time I did one was 7 years ago! I was happy to discover I had a few things to add to it. I am meeting the course leader tomorrow to go over the teaching pack and to discuss the job. 

I told my wee girl who is almost 4 and asked her what she thought. "Fine. Does that mean I get to go to play at the thing?" she asked excitedly. She was talking about the day care centre in town. Here's me staying at home to bring up my children because I think it is best for them and me and my daughter wants to go to day care. In fact, she often asks me if she can go there to play and I  tell her "No, that's for boys and girls whose Mummy and Daddy's are out at work so they go there to be looked after." She obviously thinks it is a good thing. The minute she heard I had a job she asked about going there. I suspect it is because there is a bouncy castle and a sit-in train. All those days of baking, finger painting, glitter glue and wet-weather walks, I could never trade them in for day care and wearing smart clothes to work. Perhaps there is a balance to be had and work part-time and get the best (and worst) of both worlds.

I am also wondering how I am going to fit it in. My schedule has gone crazy again. I am at the house site managing things there, doing nursery runs, Mums and Babies in the village, Community Council, going to a new Gaelic Parent and Child Group, toddler gymnastics has started again and I am trying to resurrect my writing dreams and actually write. Also, my husband is never at home as he is either working at the day-job, working at the site or away playing with his band. Oh, and I have mountains of procrastinated domestic chores to get through. They are becoming more pressing as we have a house inspection next week. It is to check for any maintenance requirements but pride will forbid me from letting them see it as it is now. Also, the recycling pile is growing as we haven't taken it down to the recycling centre for weeks and if you were to look at the collection of bottles in our back garden you would think I had turned to drink. Actually, looking at this list I could probably do with a day of work to get away from it all. But what to wear? I will have to go shopping for something smart-ish that fits. 

And, by the way, the house is coming on great. All the plasterboarding is finished so that is the 2nd fix completed. We are trying to get an Ames Taper to fill the joins in the plasterboard but they all quote at least double what we budgeted. We might just have to bite the bullet and go with one. The blockwork is 90% done as well. We just have the massive problem of discharging our sewage to deal with. It is only a massive problem because the seller of our site who is also the neighbouring landowner is being an awkward shit and telling us lies. We are trying to reach an amicable agreement but it is looking increasingly likely that it will become a matter for lawyers which means expense. He has already told me he has instructed his lawyer to write to my lawyer. It is ridiculous as I see him every day and he only lives across the road from me. Bloody areshole.

Choo Choo

The steam train passes our house every day at 11.30am. It is a highlight in the morning and choo-choo is one of my baby's first words. As soon as we hear the chugga-chagga-chugga-chugga we rush to the window in time to watch the engine and carriages pass by. The kids stand at the window pointing and waving and shouting choo-choo.

The other day we went out for a walk to watch the train coming over the viaduct. We walked along the single-track road behind the tourists rushing ahead, cameras at the ready. Up ahead we saw photographers setting up a shot and decided that would be the best place to watch. We left the road and squelched up a boggy hillside and waited surrounded by the mountains. As we waited we watched a pair of dragonflies dancing in the air, bees buzzed around wildflowers and the sun shone warmly. My baby pointed out birds flitting around. My girl needed a pee, urgently. We hid behind a bush and she giggled as the grass tickled her bum. I realised that should the train come now all the passengers would see her bum. It didn't, they didn't.

Then we heard the chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga and we saw the clouds of smoke and the baby chanted choo-choo choo-choo and my girl shouted as loud as she could choo-choo choo-choo. And there it was racing over the viaduct. The shiny black engine and red carriage after red carriage. We waved and waved. The driver waved and pulled his whistle several times Woo-Woo. And we kept waving and all the passengers waved and waved. The kids were so happy and I was so happy tears came to my eyes. It was something about old-fashionedness of it and the sheer joy of waving at people on a train and their joy at being on the train with people waving at them. A shared happiness with strangers on a train. We walked home to the sound of the baby chanting choo-choo all the way. 

foraging for food

We are getting in to foraging. Walks have taken on great purpose when we are looking for things to eat. My wee girl loves this. Picking blueberries was especially tasty and we ate them straight from the bushes and walked home with stained hands and mouths. We also tried mushroom picking but gave up as we really needed someone experienced to come with us and show us what not to pick. I didn't want to take any chances and poison the family.

We are keeping an eye on the brambles (blackberries) watching them ripen slowly. When they are ready we will pick them and make crumbles and jam. There is an apple tree nearby we collect apples from to make chutney. Foraging is one of the great delights of autumn. It feels so wholesome to go out with the kids, pick food and then eat it.

Most summers we put our boat out on the loch and go trout fishing. We just didn't manage this year as we are so busy with the house build and my husband has been away loads. 

There are a few locals who occasionally go out at night to hunt deer. They just take 'one for the pot' and fill the freezer, pass some out to neighbours. They usually go when the estate manager is in the bar drinking. One renowned poacher is also a hill-runner. He was out on the hill one night when he heard footsteps coming nearer. He hid his shotgun up high in a tree and broke into a run towards the footsteps. As he ran past, the estate manager asked him, "In training for the hill race?" to which he replied, "Aye."

I will never forget the time when I first moved to this village. There had been a clay pigeon shoot on and then a big drink taken in the local hotel. Prizes of game were awarded to the best shots. I went home to bed early and was woken up at 1am with a big party going on in our cottage. My husband had brought back the entire pub it seemed. He ended up going to bed and I was left with the party.

Next morning I was woken with banging on the door and the window. An angry wife had tracked down her errant husband and brother-in-law to our house. They were asleep together on the sofa bed. I had insisted they stayed rather than drink-drive. I have never seen anyone jump out of bed as quick as that man did when he saw his wife's face looking through the window at him. "How did she find me?" She got the two of them going quick smart.

I went through to the kitchen to see a whole side of smoked salmon lying on the floor and then in the back porch I was met with the sight of a hare tied at the hind legs dangling from the window latch. A single bullet wound to the head and blood drips on my floor. I could only laugh. Country life! Well no-one claimed the smoked salmon so after about a week we ate it and the hare went to a neighbour for skinning and butchering and he returned it to us diced. Hare casserole it was then. 

I have settled on the kitchen

The housebuilding is going well. We are partially insulated and plasterboarded and some of the outside walls are bricked up. The plumbers and electricians have done as much as they can for now. We are at a point that is not very stressful. I am happy as there are men there every day working. One of them is my brother and it is special to have someone working who really cares about us and our house. It is also exciting for the kids to go down and join him for 10 o'clock tea. 

The main news is that I have finally settled on the kitchen. I have spent weeks agonising. Yes, really agonising about worktops, sinks and taps. It was my last thought at night and my first thought in the morning. Obviously, I have lost all sense of perspective. The trouble is I found a kitchen I love but couldn't afford so I bought it and compromised by selecting cheapo worktop, sink and tap. The kitchen doors are white-painted timber shaker-style with modern long handles. I wanted to put on a black quartz worktop but I couldn't afford it. At long last I have decided to go for an oak worktop, belfast sink and beautiful tap. This way I can marry the modern with the traditional, create a heart of the home kitchen and be comfortable that I am using natural materials. Wood is the most environmentally friendly choice as it is a renewable source. I feel happy. Just have to squeeze the budget a bit.

We are trying to be as green as we can with the build. It is timber frame, well-insulated, high-performance timber doors and windows. We will have a wood-burning stove and we have installed underfloor heating. The heating system is an air source heat pump. It is expensive but should pay for itself within a few years. Basically, the fuel source is the outside air. The air is compressed which makes it hotter and it then heats the water for our water tank and the water that flows in the pipes of our underfloor heating. As there is an infinite supply of air we will always have fuel and we won't have to worry about not being able to afford to fill an oil tank. 

Highland Games

We had our village Highland games on Saturday. Throughout the summer, Highland games are held in towns and villages all over. It is a day for meeting people and for people to participate in or watch 'the games'. There are heavy man events involving tossing the caber, throwing the hammer and athletics for all ages. There is usually a hill race and there are Highland dancing and piping competitions. It is a huge event in our tiny village with lots of people helping. Crowds come from all over and it is popular with locals and tourists. 

My wee girl has been excited about the games for the last week. She was eating all her dinner to be strong for winning races. She is of the mindset to win and is not fobbed off by the notion of it being fun to take part. She wants to win. At everything. Getting to the car is a race. Going down stairs is a race. Eating breakfast is a race. And now her brother is walking it won't be long before she has someone to win races against every day. She was confident she would win a race at the games in her new flashing trainers. And she did! She won the three-legged race with a little girl on holiday from England.

And she loved watching the Highland dancing. She wants to learn but I have resisted taking her to classes as they are on Saturday mornings. I run around all week in and out of town for nursery. I can't face being tied to Saturday mornings too. And if she likes it, and sticks with it, it means expensive costumes she will grow out of quickly and summers spent going to Highland games. I am not really keen on going to Highland games. I just like our own one as it is a village event and a sociable day. 

For the first time in years my husband was at home for the games and we went as a family. At the end of the day I joined him in the beer tent and had a couple of gins then spent the evening alone as the kids slept and my husband played in the ceilidh band for the dance. I knew the whole village was there and it would be a great night but I had no babysitter so I poured myself a vodka and tonic and then another and went to bed. My husband got in at 5am. It had been a great night. A wild ceilidh dance and house parties after. Next year I will plan ahead and book a babysitter. I love nights like that with music, dancing, drinking, laughing, partying and stumbling home at the end.

There is a man who a lot of people are not keen on. He is odd, grubby and there is something unsettling about him, particularly when he is drunk. He is nicknamed, but not to his face. I was just chatting with my good friend about how tolerant and polite Highland people are and how maybe we should be more upfront about how we really feel when I heard that this man had sat in company all evening drinking top shelf (malt whisky) and never once put his hand in his pocket to buy a round. Eventually, a local estate owner who is not a toff but a self-made man told him "you are obnoxious and you have a strange sense of humour" to which he just giggled. 

jags and peeing outside naked

I took my two little ones for jags today as they were both due immunisations. My poor wee girl had to have three injections  in her arms as I held her close, holding her elbows in so she couldn't lash out.  The worst part was her utter outrage at this being done to her against her will. She cried for hours about it asking why did she have to have it, why did the doctor do it and insisting that she is never, not ever going to the doctors again. I was still comforting her when it was the baby's turn. 

Fortunately, I had brought Mum with me to help as I knew I could not manage them both. Mum held the baby who was sitting on her knee watching his sister roaring crying. Then one quick jag and he screamed. His poor little face shocked at the sudden pain. I wanted to hold him but I was still holding his sister. Moments later he stopped crying and for the rest of the day it was as if nothing had happened. He is as hard as nails that wee boy. He is used to feeling pain as he hurts himself every day on his climbing, crawling and learning to walk adventures.

Mum had tears in her eyes at the trauma of her grandchildren. I didn't. It worried me that I was okay with all this trauma. The first time I took my girl for injections I cried for hours after. I will never forget her lying on a table smiling and cooing at the doctor, so trusting, and then in an instant screaming. I felt like I had betrayed her. I think I have just become tougher as I have been through this many times and I am confident I am making the right decision in having them immunised against nasty diseases whose effects are much worse than getting a jag. Older generations remember the seriousness of diseases such as measles. 

We went home and after lunch and some quiet time doing jigsaws with me (while baby slept) my girl decided she wanted to go out to play in the garden across the road with her best friend. The trouble is I could see the bf playing and eating lunch with her Dad and sister and playing on her swing completely naked. She was like that for hours. Her garden is very exposed and anyone entering or leaving the cul de sac goes right past it and several houses look on to it. Also there was a squad of men painting the neighbouring houses. She was dangling upside down on a swing with her legs open. Then, rather than walk a few steps into her house she held on to the wooden frame, next to the road, opened her legs and peed. Then, it gets worse, wiped herself with her hand. Later, her Dad, held her under the knees as she peed in the garden...where they play. I was aghast. Even my little girl could see it was not right. She said to me, "Why does bf pee in the garden? How can D let his child pee pee in the garden? I think bf has a silly daddy." 

The bf is an odd little thing but she has no hope of learning normal social behaviour as her parents don't teach her. Indeed, they have no idea of normal social behaviour. My concern is that they make her vulnerable and that my daughter copies.  My girl promised me she would pee in the toilet when she went to play there. Last year the bf was always peeing in the gardenin full view of neighbours and her parents and I saw my girl copying her. My girl knowing it was not all right in our garden thought it was all right in the bf's garden. Then one day I got a phone call to go over as my girl had done a poo on their front path. I was horrified. I couldn't believe she had done it but when I thought about it she was confused as in their house kids were doing the toilet in the garden. My other worry was had anyone seen her! Their kid habitually does pees outside but mine goes one better and does a poo on the doorstep. I could hardly say anything about their kid. Toddlers would turn into little savages left to their own devices but that is why we have an important job to do to teach them how to behave and live in the social and cultural world they are being brought up in. 

I started to question myself. Am I being OTT? She is just a wee girl after all. Kids pee outside all the time. But, it wasn't the beach and it wasn't a private, enclosed garden. And when kids pee outside, isn't it usually behind something like a bush, a rock or a wall. They know to hide. What strikes me is that the bf doesn't know any better. My girl knows to use a toilet if there is one nearby and she knows it is best to keep her pants on in public.