A Long Year

2018 started dismally for me. Normally I begin the New Year feeling positive and energised, but this time I set myself quite ambitious targets that quickly unravelled. I had high hopes to finish writing my book, and realised early into the year that finding the time, inspiration and energy was never going to happen, while simultaneously raising a family and trying to bring some order to our project house. At the end of March I broke with the project I had been working on for five years, and apart from dabbling with a couple of new ideas have written very little all year.

 

2018 began with a long winter, although the first days of spring came early in February, giving us false hope. The weather wasn't set to change until several weeks later. At the beginning of March we made a sizeable snowman, though one day at the end of the month, the children ate their dinner outside in their coats. 

Once we were into April the winter was quickly forgotten, and our spirits thawed. In June we spent a week exploring the Isle of Bute, and could easily have left our coats and jumpers at home for we had no need of them. Having long dreamed of visiting the Scottish islands it was a delight to take in the first and truly begin our adventure. 

The soaring temperatures seemed to affect the wildlife. We saw notices on Facebook about what to do in the event of spotting a hedgehog in broad daylight and never thought we would have the need to aid one of the prickly species, until late afternoon, one day in early July when Sewel spotted a young hedgehog wandering in our garden. We gave it water and brought it inside, keeping it warm as we had been advised, until it could be collected by the SSPCA. 

We got away for a few weeks at the end of July, and into August, taking our annual tour down South to visit Sewel's family in the East, and then my family in the South-West. We returned for the start of the school term, and Moth returned to nursery for his pre-school year. Watching my little two grow throughout the year is always a highlight. The Autumn was quiet, our stream of visitors in the spring, followed by our travels in the summer, now over. We concentrated our energies on household projects and finally completed our living room in time for Christmas. 

Although I haven't updated my blogs much I started writing in my diary again after a long absence, and I've found a great joy in capturing day to day moments forever in words. And being involved with a monthly book group has meant I've read plenty: 46 books in total, which for me is an achievement, at least when compared with recent years. I believe my break from my writing project was long overdue, but I hope it is something I will fall back into in the coming year, along with candle-making, blogging, and reading, which goes without saying!

Bute Medley

It's been a long-held dream of mine to visit the Scottish islands, as many of them as I can fit into my lifetime. Our move to Scotland last year has made this ambition more of a possibility. In June we began our adventure with a visit to Bute, a small island with a population a similar size to the village where we live. It also seems to be a lesser known islands, dwarfed by the popularity of Skye and other islands that seem to be overrun by tourists in the summer. Our week was a quiet one towards the end of the school term and still a long way off the height of the tourist season.

It was just an hour's drive to Wemyss Bay and a thirty minute ferry crossing to Rothesay. Our holiday let for the week was on the seafront, where we could look across to the mainland and watch the ferry coming and going all day long, and a distant lighthouse flashing at nightfall.

It was a place where everything seemed very close to hand. We could drive around the island at a leisurely pace in just a couple of hours, which is something we did towards the end of our stay. We spent the early days skimming stones, paddling in the warm sea and digging in the sand, breathing in the calming sea air and absorbing the ambience of this small but idyllic place.

We visited Rothesay Castle, which at the time was overpopulated with nesting gulls and their young. We braved the battlements and thankfully weren't perceived to be a threat by the mothers, who can be notoriously defensive when they want to be. I should know, as I was once dive-bombed in my garden by a seagull who thought I presented a risk to her young, two storeys up on the roof!

I was completely struck by the shape of other islands in the distance, especially the dramatic and mountainous terrain of Arran, which though six miles away seemed incredibly close when seen from parts of Bute. Looking out to sea and seeing other islands rising in the distance, always filled me with the same sense of wonder and desire to explore these uncharted territories.

I think we chose the best week in the year for weather. It rained but once during our stay, soon after our arrival, and so lightly that we weren't even aware of it until afterwards when we noticed the ground was slightly wet. The sea was a beautiful azure in the sunshine and it was such a delight to take in the landscape from viewpoints, such as the one above Scalpsie Bay, which we visited on more than one occasion.

We also visited one of several lochs on the island, Loch Fad. It was a very quiet and peaceful place, almost completely deserted apart from a couple of horses, grazing in a field nearby. Even from here we could see the mountains of Arran rising in the distance beyond the loch.

One of Rothesay's top tourist attractions are the Victorian toilets on the seafront. We paid forty pence to take a look, and they certainly proved to be an interesting and novel diversion. 

We enjoyed our walks along the seafront at Rothesay, looking out across the water to the Kyles of Bute, and watching the ferry arrive. Moth was incredibly excitable during the ferry journey, and looked forward to the return journey so much that I feel this was his highlight of the week.

As our holiday drew to a close, we scoured the points where seal sightings were most common, but always in vain. It was only by chance that we spotted one on our last day, basking on a rock near Rothesay. 

 

The day of our departure arrived and we boarded the ferry again and watched as Bute shrank gradually into the distance. We drove a little way down the coast from Wemyss Bay, and stopped at Largs where we watched the ferry arriving from Great Cumbrae. We looked across to the island and Little Cumbrae beside it, and still we could see Bute a little way beyond.

We enjoyed our first Scottish island adventure. Bute certainly whet our appetite for further exploration of the Western isles. But on this occasion we were glad of the short drive home, aware also that the close proximity will allow us to return to Bute someday, even if only for a day trip.

Happy Place

Reading has become precious to me. Books are where I go to unwind, absorb, even disappear for a time. It doesn't matter where I am, but if I can steal a few minutes inside a paperback then I will. I always carry a book around on the off-chance, hence my preference for rucksacks over handbags.

The prospect of a new book group starting at church was like a gift. I glowed with excitement and had the first scheduled books ordered within a few days. But as we neared the first meeting I felt nervous. It had been almost eight years since I'd been involved in a group discussion about a book. And reading a book critically is something I have a degree in. The point of a book group is to have a discussion. My main concern was that I would come and find that I had nothing to say. 

The new year saw a slow start to my reading. I only read one book in January, but February was more prosperous, as were the months that followed. The book group gave me a new incentive to read whenever I could.

And I loved it. From the very first meeting I flourished, joining in as much as anyone else present. I am there at every meeting and was recently encouraged to write an article about the group for the church magazine. My happy place will always consist of the written word. And now, at last, I've found some people locally to share this with.

Message in a Bottle

Life has been busy, time sparing, and progress slow. But mysteries have gradually unfurled themselves from the unyielding walls, and a message in a bottle seemed as good a reason as any to post an update. This is the second discovery I've made behind the walls, the first a bookcase built into the chimney breast, concealed by a piece of plasterboard in what is to be Moth's bedroom. 

More recently we've been working on the living room, stripping the old plaster back to the scratch coat and brushing a bond coat across the surface in the hope that someone will then come and replaster the walls for us. When I had finished my tasks for the evening, I decided to pry back the panel of plasterboard, stuck to the left of the fireplace that has always looked grotesquely out of place. We felt sure there must be something in behind because whenever we tapped it, there came a distinctly hollow echo.

The plasterboard came away without protest, as though it knew it didn't really belong there, to reveal a decorative alcove. But the biggest surprise lay within the alcove: an empty bottle of non-alcoholic fizz, distinctly labelled: "Message in a bottle". My heart was beating with anticipation as I called Sewel through to share my find. Our suspense increased as we paused to photograph our excavation before investigating further. Finally, I slipped out the scroll of paper concealed within the bottle and read. 

We had in our hands, not a clue to hidden gold alas, but words of greeting and encouragement from the previous owner, perhaps an even greater treasure. I shared the details of my discovery on Facebook and piqued the excitement and intrigue of a great many friends, who were delighted to hear a real-life account of something we only tend to read about in storybooks. But for me it's a comfort to know that our predecessor will approve of our renovation work as we transform the house into our family home. And it's a wonder to think that we will become a part of the history of this building, and somehow leave our mark on the place.