Day Twenty Nine

Festis

Well it is All Hallows’ Eve as they now call it.

Back home it is still Samhain. 

As it should be I say.

Cousin Morag will be off to Tigh nam Bodach to move the Cailleach and her children into their wee stone house for the winter. 

Do not worry it is not so far from Tioram. 

Well not with Morag driving her R Type that is. It is an automatic. Dugal is still appalled. 

Fortunately she is the Procurator-fiscal for Argyllshire so over the years many a blind has been turned.

Perhaps if we had the Cailleach our winters here might be a bit more balmy. 

But we do not, and I doubt it would wish to emigrate having been happily there for these three thousand or so years. 

One cannot have everything I realize. 

We were all up rather early this morning as it is Niamh’s long day at her university and Zita was on the phone first thing.

So she could get an appointment with her doctor so they can cure this sore throat of her’s. 

Craig arose for the day when was finished listening to his book on why Russia is the way that it is.

That is to say why is Russia Russia? Bloody minded genetics if you ask me.

We have all ordered those pictograph T-shirts from those Ukrainian chaps. It is the least we could do.

Though I have it on some authority that some of the Clan have volunteered to confront the Ruskies. 

But I best say no more. 

After Craig had his stimulus coffee he finished the last almond croissant. 

Unfortunately it was not as big as one might have expected so there was only a little bit to share. 

Fortunately we three had already stopped by Whole Foods and picked up a few raspberry Danishes. 

I must say having to acquire all of Miss Poppy’s responsibilities has introduced us to many new places for a morning indulgence. 

A quick piece of toast and jam has lost some of its charm compared to fresh croissants au chocolat I must say. 

Now Zita’s doctor said that this sore throat is everywhere and she should just keep taking all her medicine. 

Now what kind of doctor will not write you a prescription for a nice Speyside or two. 

Seems like a dereliction of care if you ask me. 

Maybe she is English. 

At least Doctor Alice has the Gaelic. Thank goodness.

For tonight we have decided to leave the greeting of the costumed children to the Taylors. 

Unfortunately some find Dugal’s accent a bit confusing. 

Anyway tonight is his time for sharing a taste or two with the departed. 

He brought a cheese and ham croissant for Miss Poppy.

In case she is not too busy hovering over her family on this neither quite here nor quite there night and visits him too. 

She always loved Samhain so we were proud to stand in her place to watch all the fabulous costumes. 

It was a great success. 

But for the first time is years of years Niamh’s university classes overlapped the event and she was devastated to miss it.

So Rhome Clay substituted for her.

Thank goodness we were here to step in and provide Zita with support.

The family had an early diner to best respond to the onslaught of little people. 

So we were there to provide an early warning of visitors. 

When all was done we left Dugal to his conversations across the frail boundaries of life. 

The constant clinking of Waterford crystal kept us informed of the progress.

And Craig and Zita turned off the lights and went to the den for their detective program. 

We kept watching for rapscallions, even spirit ones. 

Though we will leave those to Dugal and Miss Poppy. 

Because one never knows on nights such as this.  

Day Twenty Eight

Furrgus 

It was sleep in Sunday, while we took advantage of the opportunity Mrs. T was still a bit under the weather.

So it will be off to her doctor tomorrow to get some better medicine.

After her breakfast she called her parents in Dublin. 

She will be off to visit them at the end of the week.

This is where Miss Poppy’s role as 2 IC was unquestioned, which leaves a bit of a power vacuum I must admit.

None of use want that particular responsibility let me tell you. 

But the other freezer has been stuffed with easy to make dinners, so perhaps he will not starve. Perhaps.

Whenever Mrs. T was off in Ireland Miss Poppy alway succeeded in lobbying for egg rolls. 

The crunchy ends were her special delight. 

Niamh and Miss Tarryn stayed at Miss Sach’s apartment last night as she needed serious moral support.

Last night she had to give her, now ex-boyfriend, his walking papers and the ladies rallied around to prevent any second thoughts. 

But the upside was that they all arrived here at lunchtime.

And made a full Sunday breakfast, pancakes, sausages, bacon, whipped cream and maple syrup. 

We would have joined them, but we had already over indulged ourselves with the Wild Oat’s delicious omelettes. 

Uncle Dugal accompanied us as he is boycotting church services as Mister Kirk is no long playing the organ.

We suspect that the music was the only reason he went; as he habitually exited before if not during the sermon. 

So it being a beautiful day he let the church roil away in the problems of it own making. 

So when we returned home we were all too stuffed to even contemplate a single sausage, or a scrap of bacon. Unfortunately. 

Mrs. T had to go her downtown office to retrieve some papers she needed for tomorrow.

And Mr. T retired to the den to watch the Formula One race. 

All the young ladies went downstairs to Niamh’s bedroom to keep Miss Sach on the straight and narrow. 

Then it was homework time so Miss Niamh’s friends went to their own homes. 

We decided a long nap would help with our digestion. 

This insight is the result of years of over indulging let me tell you.

Uncle Dugal holds the restaurant in the Raffels hotel to be totally responsible for his deficit of self control.

That and an uncontested Foreign Office expense account.

Easy to blame a restaurant 5 thousand miles away I do say. 

Personally I blame decades of field rations, but who is to say. 

After Mr. and Mrs. T had dinner Uncle Dugal got the Mahjong tiles out. 

See my previous reference to the Raffles Hotel.

And then Mr. and Mrs. T went into the den to try to solve yet another detective story. 

We reminded Dugal about the no money rules. Yet again. 

Day Twenty Seven

Furrgus

We were up early this morning as it was another beautiful day. 

And we were loath to miss the opportunity for a pleasant tip to our favourite coffee and croissants shop.

Soon enough it will require snowshoes no doubt.

Mrs. T is feeling a bit better but still is taking her medicine.

So we did not have to offer Scotch to tide her through the night thank goodness.

But she is still taking it easy. 

Taking it easy is a far underrated occupation in our opinion.

As it was his Saturday breakfast for Mr. T and his friends he did not have a sleep in. 

And made his first coffee right away to try to force himself awake. 

We noticed that Mrs. T’s mother was getting into the season’s spirit with her own jack o’lantern. 

This reminded Mrs. T and drove young Niamh to the store before stocking up on more Hallowe’en supplies.

As it will soon be that time again when the veil between the here and the there thins to imperceptibly. 

As you might imagine it is Uncle Dugal’s favourite time of the year. 

We do not think it safe to question why. 

Greeting all the little children at the front door was Miss Poppy’s very favourite Hallowe’en duty. 

We certainly hope they will not notice her absence and be disappointed. 

Last night Miss Niamh finished her costume just in time for tonight’s party. 

Shield, sword and all. 

When Mrs.T got home not only did she have a huge box of hallowe’en chips she had almond croissants for Mr. T’s extra breakfast. 

When his breakfast was over, Mrs. T got all the parts for Emmet’s about to be built computer and put them in the den.

Then she practiced getting them all into her carry on suitcase. It was a bit of a challenge let me tell you. 

It was still a beautiful afternoon so she took a small journey to Miss Niamh’s store to do some Christmas shopping. 

You can never start too early let me tell you. What with the postal service the way it is nowadays. 

Getting the Christmas list ready for back home is proving a challenge let me tell you. 

I suspect we will fall back on our usual several cans of real maple syrup. 

Cousin Morag stretches them to last the year she says. 

Whipped into the clotted cream for the scones she says.

We noticed that Mr. and Mrs. T were looking at Bouvier kennels. We are getting our hopes up.

Taking over all of Miss Poppy’s responsibilities has stretched our resources and sorely cut into our crossword puzzle time. 

So we are rather hoping for an augmenting of resources sooner rather than later. 

Though the training of a puppy will require all our expertise. And patience I suspect.

We were not here when Miss Poppy was a little thing so we rely on Mrs. T’s comments on the potential. 

When she got home she brought out the foot spa and Mr. T had a relaxing foot massage until dinnertime. 

And after dinner they retired to the den for their detective program and we spread ourselves over the dining room table. 

Day Twenty Six

Festis 

We were up often last night as Zita had a very sore throat. 

She insisted on sleeping on the sofa in the den. So she would not wake Craig up.

So we looked in all night to see if we could be of assistance, but she even turned down a glass of Dugal’s 25 year old Knockando.

So we knew she was well under the weather.

When she had her breakfast she was feeling a tad better. As she was full of medicine. 

Niamh was up early as she had an important appointment this morning.

And because she now has her full license she drove herself and only got lost a bit. 

We went for a long walk as to give Zita some time to sit, drink tea and recoup herself. 

We found that some adventuresome ducks have remained in the nearly empty canal. We had no idea why. 

But the parks were lovely in the sunshine, although there was frost on the cars this morning. 

So we put on the Feileadh Mòr and not our wee philibegs. 

So we had a right comfortable constitutional today. 

When Niamh got home she had a sword. 

Fortunately it was plastic and was needed for her Hallowe’en costume. 

We considered it most unwise to lend her one of ours, or heaven forbid one of Craig’s Claidheamh-Mòrs. 

Parties are hardly the place for such pointy things I must say. 

A friend of Craig’s father once stabbed another man at a very big house in England. 

With swords and way too much brandy I hear. 

Then Niamh had to get out the sewing machine to manufacture an appropriate hat. 

Hallowe’en costumes are much more elaborate than our sheets or eye patches I must say. 

For a late lunch Craig had toast with jam and Zita had the same but with marmalade.

We ate all the oatcakes unfortunately. 

And they are not available locally more is the pity.

Since everyone was a bit preoccupied Zita called Mister Tony’s pizza place and they delivered an extra large one.

She loves the fact that they always know it is us when we call, and say it is Craig on Craig. 

Mister Tony finds this very funny I think.  

But when the gentleman delivered the pizza he asked where his friend the big scary dog was.

And Niamh had to tell him that Miss Poppy had died, and he told her that made him very sad. 

So were we. 

Then after dinner Niamh went to get Miss Tarryn in the car. Oh my. 

Craig and Zita went to the den to watch the detective program.

 So the three of us went into the dining room and started a game of scrabble. 

I suspect it will be an early to bed evening. 

Day Twenty Five

Festis

Well we were all up at the crack of dawn as today was Miss Niamh’s driver’s test day.

So Furrgus and I were up to see the ladies off to Brockville for the testing. 

And we are ever so relieved to say that she passed the very first time. 

So we all gave a sight of relief and went back to sleep just in time for Craig to come in and take over the house monitoring duties. 

When the ladies got home there was another box full of jacket waiting for Niamh. And this time it fit. 

Another disaster avoided. 

When Craig had his second coffee I was the only one awake so I had only had to share the last oatcake with him.

I decided not to mention it to the others. Let sleeping Badgers lie I say. 

Now Miss Julia Monahan phoned Niamh as she lost her passport. In Morocco of all places. 

So the Moroccan embassy telephoned to reassure themselves that Miss Julia was on the up and up. 

Now this is exactly why we have several passports tucked away, as to accommodate all eventualities. One never knows. 

They are mostly from respectable countries, but not all. 

Yesterday Zita started to take our wonderful garden swing apart so it will not be damaged by the rigours of winter. 

Today she and Craig continued to put the house back into it’s before painting state. 

Minus a couple of boxes of books that would not have been read again and some things that seem to have just disappeared.

After they had exhausted their enthusiasm they went for a walk. 

As it was absolutely beautiful this afternoon. 

We had been out earlier and dragged Dugal with us to Whole Foods to replenish the tea reserves. 

When Mr. and Mrs. T were out they came across the Great Blue Heron in the far pond. 

I was quite surprised that is was still here. 

But it has been an unseasonably warm couple of weeks I must say. 

This afternoon Mrs. T made a big pot of soup, complete with the carrots she dug up from the garden yesterday.

Both of our gardens are in the process readying themselves for hibernation, though the roses are making a last run for it. Well done roses. 

Mrs. T has a bit of a sore throat so her doctor talked to her on her cellular phone and prescribed some antibiotics. 

So after dinner she went to the drugstore before she watched the detective programs with Mt. T.

She also had some tea. That is always a good answer to a sore throat if you ask me. 

Day Twenty Four

Furrgus

Well it was an early start for everyone, except Mr. T. 

He does not do early mornings willingly I have noticed.

The ladies went off to do some more practice driving before Miss Niamh went off to work at the little store.

But my goodness, her exam is tomorrow. And it is not even here. The two of them will drive to Brockville to take the exam.

As one might expect we were not invited. Just as well. No needless kibbutzim from Festis would be a good idea.

It was back to being a beautiful fall day.

So while the ladies were practicing and Mr. T was still sleeping we went for our morning look around.

Some of the trees are now completely bare, while others seem to hang on for dear life. 

I

The patio is quite covered at the moment. It is time for the leaf blower I suspect. 

Both Mr. and Mrs. T have tried to get the newspaper delivered to Mr. T’s mother. But it seems to little avail. 

No one answers the phone for hours. 

With the paint done and dried the bookcases were returned to their spots and books sorted into various piles. 

Some to go to new deserving homes and others to be kept for the next generation of bibliophiles one suspects. 

The sagging bookcases gave a sigh of relief. 

But then Mr. T spent hours arranging the books in some as yet to be deciphered order. 

He must have lots of time on his hands. 

As predicted the leaf blower made its appearance.  

It nearly woke us up but I just pulled my bonnet down over my ears and went back to my nap.

Then Mrs. T went to continue getting the garden ready for the onslaught of winter. 

Some things just have to be faced up to. As Mr. T’s television program says Winter Is Coming. Alas.

Our ladies are doing more practice driving tonight before having dinner. 

Practice makes perfect they say. 

But then most people say such a lot of mindless blather.  

But they were practicing for so long that after dinner it was time for bed. 

Day Twenty Three

Festis

Well the beautiful weather came to a stop this morning.

After a quick once around a rather damp block Furrgus and I went back to sleep. 

Dugal watched Branagh’s Henry V for the millionth time. 

It has been his Agincourt day ritual ever since that movie came out. And who can blame him.

Zita was up early again as she had a dental appointment so we had our breakfast by ourselves.

Niamh was a bit late this morning and had to walk to work without her wake up coffee. 

Craig was up well before Niamh left and the three of us had another of his filling Newfoundland oatcakes. 

Then we all settled in to reading about what transpired overnight in the far reaches. 

Discouraging though it was we persevered and soon enough it was lunch and time for our trip to Little Victories.

Dugal was far too engaged in the movie to accompany us. 

With our coffees in hand we wondered up Bank street looking for a Christmas present for Cousin Morag.

The state of the postal service in the islands requires us to post anything bound for Tioram as early as one might.

But finding a suitable present for her is not one of our strengths and I have suggested enlisting Niamh and Zita’s assistance. 

That year when I sent the “A 101 time saving tips for house cleaning” book went over rather poorly shall we say. 

So I have now become quite circumspect let me tell you. 

Later we walked home along the empty canal. 

It was a lovely walk even with a cloudy day around us. 

Tonight is Niamh’s exercise with the Poles night. 

Fine fellows those Poles. I was with them at the foul up at Arnhem. Ahh well. 

They had their own bear with them in Italy. Now that was a sight let me tell you. 

Near to three we roused Dugal and we three did a through reconnoiter of the neighbourhood. 

Peeked in at the Mahoney’s and all was quiet thank goodness. 

Then we went to the bank to exchange the Sovereigns for folding money. 

Little Victories does not have a safe so they are reluctant to accept gold. 

It looks as if we might have to get a clan credit card. Goodness me. 

Zita came home early today so she and Craig could go for a bit of a walk around just before dinner time. 

Tomorrow is her regular day off. With any luck the weather will be better. 

Just as they left Professor Jill was walking by with her very small dog, so they went on the walk together.

And as there was only Craig and Zita at dinner tonight they decided to have an early one. 

So they could watch more of the detective program.

We decided for an early retire tonight. 

Day Twenty Two

Furrgus

Well Mrs T got home safe and sound.  

Which we hope will put an end to the endless reliance on that microwave machine. 

But since it was the end of a long day they all went to their beds early and we settled down until the 1 am patrol. 

Mrs. T was up early again as she had lots of work on her schedule today. As is usual. 

And not only is today an Election Day around here, and tomorrow will be Saint Crispens day.

So it is time for a brunch of new scoundrels or practice ones archery, preferably both. 

We had another quite spectacular day for the election.

But let me tell you there is a lot to be said for an hereditary monarchy you know. 

Kept in check by the occasional fruitful assassination, mind you. 

This morning when Mrs.T unpacked she found the presents for the family. 

She and Mrs. Susan stumbled upon a wayside fair in Petty Harbour while trying to park their car. 

Right in the church’s parking lot. So they loaded up with lots of presents. 

And oh my goodness they found oatcakes. Oatcakes.

Real oatcakes made with partridge berries, dipped in chocolate. Heaven help us.

Thank God Mr. T is a gentleman and he shared them with us. 

It has been many a year since we had home made oatcakes. 

The ones from Harrods stick to the top of you mouth. 

I think they are afraid to use butter in their recipe. They are awful dry things at best, even smothered in Brie. 

And the price of them. Well. 

So we were quite ecstatic with the Petty Harbour offerings, I must say. 

And then we looked and Mrs. T found a Christmas tree decoration.

And lo and behold it was the spitting image of Dugal’s father the Laird. 

Now that caused a bit of a chuckle all around let me tell you. 

Not wanting to leave our Niamh without, Mrs.T found just the perfect knitted hat for Niamh’s afternoon ensemble.

At lunchtime Mr. and Mrs. T went out to exercise their franchise. 

We did not feel they needed an armed escort, as we are not in the Western Isles where this is taken far too seriously. 

That one time Cousin Morag announced that she was going to vote Conservative it took the entire household staff, carrying cudgels to escort her to the pub to vote. 

But then she stood the entire assembly two pints and all was back to normal. Well aside from the bank account. 

Miss Niamh had already dragged the neighbour with her to the polling station to ensure that he voted. Wise idea I say. 

Mrs.T was very busy all day interviewing more people for her office. Ah well. 

A new coat came for our young Niamh. 

But alas it was big enough got two of her. 

So it has to be returned. Such are the trials of fashion leadership I guess. 

And thanks to her, the den now has a stunning pillow to memorialize Miss Poppy.

Well done Miss Niamh. That Miss Poppy loved her pillows. 

This afternoon Niamh is practicing her driving skills again, as her exam is on Thursday. 

Seems like a good idea to us.

Dugal on the other hand worries about her being Over Prepared, as if he actually bothered to take his test.

Granted when he first got his automobile it was the only one in the Isles and there was only one road. 

Well trail was probably a more apt description. But I digress. 

When Zita got home she had new boots. She got another pair of her favourite Bloodstones boots. 

As her old ones were completely worn out. So with winter coming it was time. 

After dinner Mr. And Mrs. T went to watch their detective programs. 

And we found the cards and started our poker game again before it was time for our evening patrols. 

Day Twenty One

Festis 

Although it was Sunday it was such a beautiful day we all went for an extended ramble over to the Porridge Restaurant.

When we retuned Niamh was upstairs still in the living room doing some homework and talking to her friends.

Craig said he was listening to his book. 

Not wanting to contradict him, but I personally think he was fast asleep.

This morning Zita and Susan were still in Newfoundland and visiting the very little towns down the coast from St. John’s. 

Where the fishermen live. 

They saw the lighthouses that keep those fishermen safe.

And Zita had to wash her feet in the excessively cold water. 

Braver than any of us I must say. 

They will be flying to Halifax for a bit of a stop before flying home later today. 

So Craig and Niamh needed to clean the place up before Zita got home.

We having had no responsibility for the creation of the mess we felt no obligation to assist in the clean up.

So we went for another long constitutional in the healthy sunshine.

While we were out Miss Tarryn came over so Niamh could get in more practice time driving before her exam. 

They went to visit Ikea and returned with a big shelf but not even one box of Craig’s favourite cinnamon buns. 

They were sold out. Now that sounds like poor planning I must say. 

While they were gone Craig must have been a whirlwind as the house looked almost tidy when we got home. 

There was a real football game underway in Landsdowne. We stayed well away.

So we just wondered around window shopping until we found a new home made ice cream store.

Well not only was that a pleasant surprise for all of us, the selection was astonishing. 

We only had chocolate or vanilla in His Majesty’s ships. And only on tropical assignment.

But this store was chockablock full of delicious choices. So we took home a small case. 

For long term testing. What a treat. 

Fortunately the extra freezer was almost empty as Mrs. T was not here to replenish it. 

We saw that ol’Boris wisely decided to forgo an attempt to resurrect his lamentable career. 

Cousin Morag was up with him at Cambridge. 

Appears that she knocked him quiet senseless after one of his ill timed comments. 

Lucky for him. 

If her brothers had heard, well things would have gotten very sticky, very quickly. 

But fortunately for him they were all deployed somewhere interesting.

A taxi brought Zita back home. 

And the refrigerator pizzas were nearly ready. Now that is good planning. 

Day Twenty

Festis

Well we awoke to another beautiful day so we all ambled over to Little Victories for our morning pastries and a few cups of coffee.

It is a not too expensive indulgence. 

But with the sad state of the Pound we are very great full that Uncle convinced us to take our pensions in gold sovereigns.

A Prime Minister who could not last as long as an oil change. 

Good Lord the state of things over there. 

On our way home I noticed how quite desolate the ponds look empty of their water. 

And it is a long time until spring. 

On arriving home we found Miss Tarryn was here so they could take the Buick to work.

Until Niamh passes her final exam someone with a license has to be with her. 

We try to do the same with Uncle but with an alarming lack of success.

Craig’s football team lost again last night so he and Niamh had to drown their disappointment in several bowls of ice cream.

When Craig got up there was a slew of photographs waiting for him from Zita and Susan.

They seem to have found a lovely day for their holiday. 

But like Scotland one cannot presuppose the weather. 

The two of them have rented some sort of vehicle and are touring the country side of the island. 

And they drove very nearly to the top. 

They have to be careful as the place is chock a bloc with moose as I remember. 

My destroyer regularly docked at St. John’s while on convoy duty during the unpleasant times. 

And we were warned about the moose and the women with equal concern. 

Since they were way up the coast I noticed that if you look way way far in the centre you can see the Arran Islands. 

And the ladies solved the mystery of where Miss Poppy’s friends the ducks go when the ponds are empty.

They go to Newfoundland. Now who would have guessed that. 

We saw that the North Atlantic was nearly calm today. 

Sometimes the waves reach the old tower at Tioram. Hence the lack of that particular roof. 

This afternoon Craig’s sister visited having been down the street visiting their mother. 

Anyway it is always nice to see family I must say. 

When Zita and Susan got back to St. John’s they went to another restaurant overlooking the harbour.

Lovely seafood restaurants in downtown St. John’s as I remember. 

But very steep hills. 

There was no rationing there, so we stuffed ourselves whenever in port. 

Niamh and Tarryn were both here for dinner. And they ordered three hamburgers. 

And French fries of course. 

From the restaurant where Niamh used to work. 

They were very messy full of everything hamburgers.

It was a bit of a together dinner as Miss Poppy would have proudly proclaimed to all.

Craig’s hockey team won again.

Now this was unexpected and is causing Dugal to reassess his betting strategy. 

After dinner Niamh and Miss Tarryn sat in the dining room talking. 

Not wanting to eavesdrop we went to sleep until it was time for us to assume our responsibilities.