Potting Shed Latest - Kiln Installed!

 The Potting Shed is our garden room - to be used as a pottery studio, with lean-to greenhouse. The shed itself was built in the autumn, but due to assorted pandemic delays, the greenhouse was not delivered until about a fortnight ago,  and the kiln, essential for any pottery making, was also a long time coming.

However, I am delighted to report that although the greenhouse still awaits decent enough weather for its construction to be undertaken, I do now have a fully functioning kiln!

I had confirmed with the manufacturer that my kiln was ready, and as it happened, this coincided with my most recent trip south. I was driving the BMW X3 this time, so I had the space needed to actually collect the kiln myself. The heavy item was loaded into the car with the help of a fork lift truck and two strong young men. Getting it out again, and into place in the Potting Shed was a bit more of a challenge, but a very helpful neighbour and I spent an hour or so devising an arrangement of ramps and steps, and eventually, the deed was done.

Now all I need is to find the time to actually get out there and get potting...

Installed at last !

Mum's Box Of Photos

It's that dismal and damp time of year when I long to be outside making a start at getting the allotment fettled ready for spring, but the wind and drizzle keep me penned-up indoors, scratching-around trying to find things to keep me occupied. 

Although the Potting Shed is now pretty much ready to be used for artistic activity, I still await delivery of the kiln, and without that, there is a very limited appeal in actually making anything, as there is no way for the time being that any pottery items could become finished.

So, as my sister recently passed-on to me the custody of the Dorrell family archive of photographs and paperwork, I have started having a rummage. My goodness - there's some memories here, and some surprises too. I still have to formulate a plan for what to do with all the paperwork, which includes things like receipts for furniture bought by my parents in the 1930s when they were setting up their first home. (We still have a lovely octagonal walnut coffee table bought in 1938 for the princely sum of one pound, twelve shillings and sixpence - that's £1.62 in modern decimal money). 

Then I come across some household accounts, also from the late '30s, which showed my father - who worked for the Air Ministry as a weather forecaster - was bringing home just £13.00 per month, and yet the receipt for my Mum's solitaire diamond engagement ring reveals that he paid £10.00 for the ring. Project those figures to 2020 rates of pay and prices, and that ring would cost some £1,500.00 !

But so far, it is Mum's box of photos that I have worked through the most. There are hundreds of pictures, mostly tiny, and in black and white of course. I know my Mum would get the box out from time to time and have a nostalgic browse through the past, and gaze with love, and maybe a few tears, at the images of beaming children and long-departed family members.

I guess we all like to do that.

I am currently working on scanning a selection of the images, and am uploading them as a gallery on my Life Story website that I created several years ago. It is a work-in-progress, but anyone interested will find the gallery here: https://richarddorrell.weebly.com/mums-box-of-photos.html

Here's a teeny sample:

We are fairly certain Mum is the little girl on the far left with a bow in her hair. 
This would probably have been in Islington, London, about 1920.

A birthday party in about 1953

Brother-and-Sister love

Mum's brother, Sid, Died 1956, age 42.

Signed: 'Your devoted and loving husband, Tommy. Nov. 1940'

Happy Cairngorms White Christmas!

What are we doing in the Cairngorms on Christmas Eve...???!!!

Well,  the story begins last Sunday, when Sue pops over to The Old Bakery at Strathpeffer to finish off Christmas shopping in Inverness. Unfortunately, she hadn't done much shopping when the pavement suddenly came up towards her, making first contact with her left arm and then her chin. She was promptly whisked into Raigmore Hospital A&E, where the super-wonderful NHS acted promptly and professionally, soon diagnosing a broken wrist and displaced jaw.

So, the wrist was rapidly wrapped in plaster, but for the jaw, it was deemed desirable for Sue to make an urgent visit to Scotland's specialist facial injuries unit in Aberdeen (!!) The appointment was for Thursday 23rd. Now, Aberdeen is a looooong way from Skye, and quite a looong way from Strathpeffer. But, hey, we can cope. I sorted out our Skye cottages which were both booked for Christmas visitors, and then drove over to Strathpeffer on Wednesday, popping into Inverness on arrival to collect Sue's car, which was still in a car park in the city.

The consultant who Sue met in Aberdeen was typically thorough, and decreed that although the jaw bone is cracked, it will repair itself fairly speedily with no surgery being required. A much-relieved, but still slightly-in-pain Sue and I (and Cupar) then spent the night in an Aberdeen Travelodge, before making our way back to Strathpeffer today.

By way of celebration, and to make a more interesting journey, I chose to take the scenic route, passing through the northern part of the Cairngorms, and including the infamous Cock Bridge to Tomintoul section past The Lecht. It was a good decision. We enjoyed a lovely drive, and are now toasting our toes before the stove in The Old Bakery, before we make our way back to Roskhill on Christmas Day morning.

This was not quite the run up to Christmas I had been looking forward to, and Sue is devastated that she will not be able to carry out her care work duties for a few weeks, though we will be delivering the numerous Christmas presents she has for friends and clients in the coming day or two.

I close with best wishes to all the readers of this blog for Christmas 2021, and let us ALL hope for a safe and healthy 2022.

A939 towards Tomintoul

Corgarff Castle

Gairnshiel Bridge

Six Hours

The date is getting close to the winter solstice, and we are a long way north here.

At 8.00am this morning, when I took Cupar out for his morning walk, it was just about light enough for me to be able to make out the trees, undergrowth and fences that line the local roads. By the time we returned, half an hour later, the grey morning light was just giving way and painting the landscape in dark greens and browns. By 9.00am, it had become as light as it is going to get today, as an area of high pressure is building, giving us low dense cloud cover and occasional light drizzle. The sun only makes rare appearances at this time of year. At least it is pleasantly mild!

In just six hours time, our winter daytime light will be fading again. Indoors, with deeply inset and rather small windows, we live in a permanent gloom, brightened only by electricity. How on earth did people manage when all their lighting was by oil lamp and candle?

I often wonder at how the wildlife copes with such a short daylight time to forage for food. Even if the garden birds rise at the first glimmer of grey, and hang on until the world returns to uniformly black, they will still have to face some sixteen hours of night before venturing abroad again. It is no surprise that virtually all plant life slumbers through the winter.

It's that time of year when it is good to browse back through the summer posts of sparkling sunshine on the sea and flourishing wild flowers...!

Roskhill Barn garden, August 2018