Hebridean Life

Yesterday military vehicles swarmed all over our island. It seems incongruous in this remote wilderness to round a bend and be confronted with a camouflage vehicle pointing a gun straight at you. Somebody said it was the Dutch army who were visiting us. Their vehicles bristled with technology I have... Sign in to see full entry.

Yesterday’s sheep saga prompted Mr Mac to tell me the story of Monty the pet ram and his unfortunate demise. Monty belonged to Mr Mac’s uncle Archie. The pair were inseparable. Mr Mac said: “Monty was a vast thing, and very woolly. He was more like a yak. He had huge horns and he would come up and... Sign in to see full entry.

Two dozen sheep are now in the field surrounding our house. They are each daubed with a blue stripe, and a red stripe, and if they only they wore berets they would look perfectly French. They will stay in this field until spring, when they will lamb, sending Uistlady into paroxysms of anxiety.... Sign in to see full entry.

The island soundtrack changes with the seasons. Now it’s dominated by the squeaky-hinge creak of geese and the startled ‘skaap’ of snipe flushed out on a field walk. The island’s ‘scent-track’ has changed too. In summer it can be like breathing honey as you walk through the rich flower and grass... Sign in to see full entry.

Uistlady is prone to malapropisms under stress, such as the current economic meltdown. ‘We’re definitely peeling the finch,’ I informed Mr Mac yesterday. Peeling the finch! A recipe from the court of Henry VIII surely! ‘Fyrst catch a flock of Finch, and peel. To this add a brace of Bight Tudgets and... Sign in to see full entry.

The wind can beset our daily lives with all manner of problems here on this island on the edge, with nothing but 5,000 miles of ocean between us and the Statue of Liberty. A dreadful dilemma befell our friend N when he turned up to continue work on our balcony while we were away last week. A... Sign in to see full entry.

WOOLLY MAGGOTS AND THE BUSH TELEGRAPH Mr Mac’s Sunday lunch was interrupted several times by an invasion of woolly maggots (sheep, as described by Scottish conservationists). He had to abandon his steak and drop of fine Argentinian to leap up, grab his grandfather’s crook and rush out to the garden,... Sign in to see full entry.

We have been perambulating throughout The Mainland and are glad to be home. Our swallow family left just before we did, on the evening of September 24. I didn’t realise the significance at the time, but that afternoon, around 4.30, a lone adult swallow returned to fly around the nest and perch on... Sign in to see full entry.

ALAS POOR HAMISH Uistlady has travelled to the place we call The Mainland. We go there from time to time, for business, pleasure, relatives and shopping, in varying orders of ascendency, and we’ll be there for the next week. Hours before leaving, some remarkable news came to light in Mr Mac’s... Sign in to see full entry.

Mr Mac told me another story from his childhood summers in Baleshare, a beautiful tidal island to the west of North Uist. As previously blogumented, he and his brother would accompany their mother to the little shop at Clachan, waiting for the tide to be right, walking a couple of miles barefoot... Sign in to see full entry.