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.........sometimes you just wonder, what the hell am I doing here, on a lump of rock in the North Sea, in the middle of yet another gale and looking at bits of my garden and suchlike being destroyed and scattered yet again?
Another windy weekend...if you get a good-ish summer, see, it lulls you into a false sense of security, so you get to forgetting, a bit, about the winter winds, the grey and dreich and cold.
And then all that sneaks up on you in the space of a fortnight and where before, I used to enjoy it because it was a `cosying down` time, a time when you stoked the fires and just shut the world out and kept warm, fed and dry, now I find myself getting a bit....irritated...(insert blush here at the cheek of being annoyed with the uncontrollable weather)....at the seemingly unending gales....

I think islanders, native or not, have a particular mindset...a toughness that can set them apart from mainlanders, but not the kind you see in any arrogant swagger or abrasive manner...it`s a quiet thing, a `getting on with it` thing that shows in the often smooth flow of daily life, of things being done despite the weather which tries to hold us prisoner in homes and farms, a confidence and healthy acceptance of, "This is just the way it is".....

I used to think I was like that...

But now I wonder...and find myself wishing for older days when winter meant months of deep snow (yes, old enough to remember real, proper winters folks) where you`d get bundled up and get out there and sled or build snowmen ...and I find myself wishing for creature comforts as I get older...oh for some central heating!
Yes, g`won, have a giggle....but don`t knock it til you`ve had to scrape ice off the inside of your windows.....
And as I go outside to once more inspect the wind damage, to see which henhouse has now been scattered all over the fields, I could wish, sometimes, that the winds would just......bug*er off for a peedie while and give us a break....

I`m just peedie you see..five foot of nothing, so I can`t even go outside in them if I see something in trouble out there, for I get knocked down and have actually been hurt on occasion with bits of things hitting me....
and the next morning when it dies down you look at your garden stripped bare and any plant that had dared to stick its nose above the ground is seared brown and brittle and half dead....and you get to thinking it is getting worse each year, isn`t it?
And I wonder what the future holds here, in the islands, in real practical terms.

Well there ye go, there`s my pleep over with for the morning....

Does you good to get it out of the system..........;-)

And in the end, I just get up after the winds have gone, go outside and watch the sun come up over the fields, and watch the sea, still angry, swollen and rough, pound the shore with fading ire, and listen to the winter geese take to the skies above me.
And I ken fine why I`m here.