Back from the big city, as David said, to civilisation Lochbroom style. Neither of us are much use any more away from this place – after 5 years here I feel totally cast adrift when I’m gone. A big sigh of relief to find all 11 goslings still alive (thanks to my mother and stepfather, professional croft-sitters), the four that we hatched in the incubator slowly munching their way down to England (they do like a nice drop of grass) and even the sheep looking on with astonished respect. This weekend brings more stress and excitement: the hopeful hatching of some of the 24 poultry eggs now in the incubator: Lavender Araucanas (a flighty and slightly tarty Chilean hen – lay very fine bue eggs) and Rhode Island Reds (the big fat slobs of the chicken world). Always a scary time when they start pipping, hovering to see whether they’re going to make it out alive. As you can see from this little thing (it’s only red because he’s under a heat lamp) it’s an exhausting process!
He looks like he’s going to grow up a true Scot – reading the football page …
Then, this afternoon, while the sun is still shining, a bonfire on the beach with a bunch of neighbours. Back to the books soon but even we figure they can do without us for a wee wee while …
