Day Eighty Seven

Furrgus 

Well were we surprised when we opened the living room curtains.

The forecast “possibilities of flurries” turned into 15 centimetres of snow. My goodness.

So it was definitively snowshoe weather. We strapped ourselves into them and ventured forth. 

There were blessedly no cars on the roads as it was on the roads we travelled. 

The sidewalks were not fit for man nor beast. That includes Badgers. 

When we got home it was just in time to commiserate with Mrs. T.

She too was taken aback at the enormous amount of snow.

Then our Emmet appeared having a before breakfast dentist appointment up in Lansdowne.

And borrowing our snowshoes ventured forth. 

We helped Mrs. T with breakfast and looked out the window as cars failed to make it up the Holmwood hill. 

Amusing as that was the side yard and the escape pathway had to be cleared. 

So we all shouldered our shovels and attacked the snow. 

We popped in every so often, to fill up our flasks and eventually we found both Mr. T and our Niamh awake.

Young Emmet had returned earlier and went downstairs to resume sleeping. 

So when Mrs. T came in coffee was passed around and we resumed watch the hill climb circus unfolding on the corner. 

Now it was not so very cold, which was fortunate. 

To our concern it was again colder in Glenfinnan. 

We most certainly hope the coal supplies are sufficient.

We tried to call Cousin Morag but the signal at the castle is very problematical. 

So we called the pub. Murdoch was there naturally. 

He said that Morag had gone to her house in Edinburgh for Hogmanay. 

We should have guessed. 

Because of the time difference we shall call Morag about dinner time here, before she is too busy celebrating..

Mrs. T and young Niamh spent much of the afternoon assigning the Mahoney’s Christmas presents. 

A complicated diplomatic task let me tell you.

And then that finished there was the task of wrapping them. 

After being sure we could of little help in either task we had our nap. 

When we got up Mrs. T and Professor Jill had gone on a walk in the rather soggy weather.

Emmet came up occasionally to refill the tea mug, which is required while writing a book chapter.

When Mrs. T got home she got the snow shovel out so she could clear out the side yard as the snow is turning to rain. 

And if that freezes tonight, well, it would be unfortunate. 

Before dinnertime Miss Sach and Miss Tarryn came to help Miss Niamh clean her room. 

Apparently it takes three of them. Oh my goodness. 

So they stayed for a delicious pastas dinner. 

Then they returned to their cleaning duties. 

From over hearing kitchen conversation it appears that the next Bouvier program is proceeding unabated. 

Well that is exciting I must say. 

We have refrained from taking any part in this, due to our major conflict of interest. 

Dugal has read us the riot act let me tell you. 

Perhaps we can check in with Miss Poppy tonight.

If she is not too busy with Mister Matti, her real estate agent finding the appropriate castle for the family.

Apparently many do not have the requisite number of secret rooms or passages. 

Or adequate insulation or running water. 

Some do not even have moats and drawbridges. 

Our Castle Tirom does not have a moat, being on an island for most of the day. 

But it does have more than enough secrets.

I mean we agree that it does looks like a deserted ramshackle affair from afar. 

Especially with the west tower being roofless. 

But the renovated second through fifth basements are virtually invisible, being only accessible through the giant rotary fireplace. 

And the second ballroom can only be found if you are a bit tipsy. Or so they say.

After dinner Mr. and Mrs. T and young Emmet sat at the table and ate Christmas shortbreads, while resolving the future. 

We try that but after a few glasses of scotch the future seems a pale reflection of the past. Ahh well. 

Perhaps we should get better scotch.