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Well, I wasnae really...but I did go ootside and watch the Lunar eclipse last nicht, a rare thing for yours truly tae dae, as I`m usually in bed by half nine. This is for two reasons...I`m an auld fart and need me sleep. And I`m an insomniac, usually awake in the wee sma` hoors, and pretty much always up and aroond by four.
When the eclipse started aroond half nine, I thocht we had nae chance o` seeing it....a dirty big daud o` black cloud cam` ower the face o` the bricht full moon. But that soon cleared and wi` the aid o` me trusty binoculars, I was able tae watch the whole thing for the next few hoors, and a richt bonny sight it was tae.
Like the solar eclipse it was, only easier tae see withoot burning oot your eyeballs! But when the shadow was almost ower the whole moonface, there was nae diamond ring effect like you get wi` the sun, but it was just as pretty to look at, and softer. And then the whole shadow turned a rusty copper shade and looked like a superstitious auld wifies omen, a big blood moon up in thon nicht sky.
Whilst the eclipse was fu`, I spent the next wee while using the binoculars tae look aroond at the neighbouring stars, and mony o` them there war.
The whole thing was a delight tae watch, no` least for there being nae wind as would usually be there. One o` the things skywatching does for me is tae put things in perspective. Faced wi` a skyscape so vast, so huge, so intimidating, your own wee life and it`s ups and doons gets kind o` put in its place. And that`s a guid thing. Skywatching brings ye doon tae earth wi` a gentle bump.
I would dae it mair often excepting the wind is usually howling, the cauld usually biting hard, and me auld bones are far too creaky tae spend mony nichts ootdoors in the Sanday damp.
And then this morning,......had a lie in and got up at six...I opened me curtains ontae a sun filled, rosy hued morning. I hae a grand view frae me hoose here, ye see...clear across the Peedie sea tae Stronsay I can see, and the skies are huge and empty aside, that time o` the morning, frae the usual chatter o` starlings and whirr o` curlews. And the eleven moorhens wha hae adopted oor garden and the geese and follow them aroond half the morning.
And there, in the middle o` me lawn, was a big white egg. Oor geese hae started laying, ye see...and they`re no` ower fussy whar they lay! So groaning...(I need a coffee boost tae get me started each morning) oot I went tae lift the egg afore it attracted the evil crows or marauding gulls.
And I stopped and stood like the village eejit for a full five minutes just enjoying the quiet o` the morning and the view that I sometimes tak` for granted.
In the west was the fat, rosy tinted full moon, ready tae set and disappear for the day. The sun still hadnae risen above the eastern horizon but the sky was soft and pink tinged and looked, if it didnae feel, warm.
I love the morning licht...it feels `thicker` somehow than other licht, and it rolls across the island fields like a wash o` liquid gold. It paints oor wee island wi` a quite magical licht and I wondered how often folks o` the past took the time or had the luxury o` time, tae stand and watch the sun rise ower this place. And if they did, what did they think o` it.
Such fine starts tae the days are no` that common here this time o` year. Usually it`s grey or windy and blawin` hard wi` rain. So days like this...well...they just beg tae be savoured, tae hae time spent on them, they`re precious enough tae be valued, and so, I dae just that.
So yours truly stood ootside, gawping happily at the rising sun and the setting moon, goose egg in hand, slippers on chilly feet, and had a fine start tae me day, even though I dinnae feel like I`ve had much sleep at a`.
And I realised twa things...I have nae chance for a relaxing Sunday, as I hae tae work and hae a parcel o` things tae dae.
And I left me washing oot last nicht!
The auld romantic in me thinks that washing will be a` the nicer for having had a touch o` ecliptic nicht air on it.
The granny in me kens she`ll be leaving it a peedie while tae air a bit mair afore getting it in so it disnae drip wi` morning dew all ower the stove when I hang it up.

Richt noo`, the moorhens are doing their customary route o` me garden, getting the spill o` barley left ower frae the geese. When they first started coming intae the garden through the field fence, they would shy awa` frae the sicht o` ony human. Noo though, they are fairly used tae us, so I can stand at the large window and watch them and they`ll lift their heids occasionally tae keep a weather eye on me, then get back tae eating. They are fun tae watch, and I can see fine their resemble tae the humble domestic chicken, for they peck awa like them and what I`m presuming are the males (I`m nae twitcher) hae wee red bits like wee combs above their beaks. I hae a hedge o` dog rose bushes in the garden and as they day goes on, they tak` shelter in them, and doze a wee while awa`. Then at nicht they go off doon tae the pond at the side o` the track, and in among the iris reeds and the scrub tae mix among me ducks, wha` a` like the water doon by there. I reckon, they must spend the nicht telling jokes, for in the middle o` the nicht, one duck will start tae cackle then that sets them a` off and the quackquackquack goes roond the whole brood til it dies oot and they a` settle doon again, quiet as mice.
Whatever bird jokes are, funny or no`, I`ve never managed tae decipher them.
I hope other folks are having sic a fine bonny morning as meself. What mair can we ask for? The sun is shining, there is nae howling gale, and the air is fresh and clean.

We`re used tae the wind here. I do mind reading somewheres online, that Orkney is one o` the windiest places in the world. I can believe that!
But, for a` that, we hae the common sense for the most part, tae build oor hooses oot o` stane, and slate, so that they stand up tae the wind. I see folks ower the big pond living a place called Tornado Alley, and they live in trailers! Noo, wha,r`s the sense in that? Would it no` mak mair sense tae build something substantial tae withstand the winds?
Onyway, for a` that, we do still hae trouble wi` the winds, and the gales.
Oor plumbing here in this wee hoose is a bit on the primitive side. We hae nae water pressure tae speak o`...it can tak a guidly while tae fill a bath, and oor kitchen tap! Well, it disnae sae much run, as dribble....
and in the bathroom, well....see, it a` depends on which way the wind blows in the gale...if it comes frae the North, then the ferocity o` the wind will howl doon the pipe which is attached tae the toilet plumbing ootside the bathroom wall, and suck the water oot o` the toilet bowl!
No, I`m no` kidding either. So in a gale ye can pay a visit tae the wee room, and if ye dinnae check first, sit doon on something that probably resembles a high flight jet plane toilet on full flush!
Perversely, if the gale is howling frae the Sooth, the opposite happens...all the water in the bowl gets sprayed oot across the bathroom floor, regardless or no` if ye have the lid doon. So ye can walk intae the wee room richt intae a skidding across the floor if you`re no` awfu carefull. And then, of course, it`s a whole big operation tae dry up the seat and flush afore ye sit just so ye dinnae get sprayed by freezing cauld water as ye need tae answer natures call.
The joys o` country life and primitive plumbing....wha`d hae them?
I am nae plumber...but am convinced it is a` tae dae wi` thon big pipe ootside. In a gale, ye can hear the wind howling doon it! I often wonder what would happen if I cut it awa` and capped it...but am sensible enough no` tae fool wi` anything I ken nothing aboot.
But when folks wonder why I`m sae interested in the finer details o` the gales and winds...this is just one reason why!
Another reason is the beasts we keep. We are thinking o` letting the hens oot o` the byres. They hae been in there most o` the winter. We thought it would be a better thing tae dae, before they used to wonder in and oot at will. But when we looked oot the window one blustery day tae see a couple o` wee bantams flying backwards past us, we thought it would be a guid idea tae shut them in during the windy weather in case ony o` them came tae grief. And they have been just fine in the byres, arguing wi` the goats and oor auld sheep, laying the occasional egg tae gie us for oor breakfast, and finding the choicest roosts.
But I ken Sanday weather! It fools ye intae thinking Spring is here...ye get one or twa weeks o` fine sunny weather, wi` only a light breeze, and ye get complacent...so ye hang you`re washing oot, look speculatively at the garden and inspect the spades and forks, and let the goats oot tae sniff at the suddenly growing grass....
then it snows! Or a mini hurricane blows. And your washing ends up being eaten by sheep twa fields awa`, or the hen hooses end up also twa fields awa` upside doon!
So I might just wait a peedie whiles yet and see what the weather will be doing. Nae doubt it will lull us intae a false sense o` Spring security afore hitting us wi` a fortnights worth o` gale force winds or even some much awaited (and late) snow. I am fairly sure that up there somewhere, sit some weather gods wi` a wicked sense o` humour. And they wait until they see up peg oot the washing, then snigger among themselves afore letting loose wi` the lashing rain and howling winds. Rotten buggers!

Then there`s the travel....I hae a dentist appointment in Kirkwall next week. I hate the dentist. I hae a phobia aboot dentists. A real one, no` just a dislike, but one that reduces the normally solid and sensible yours truly to a gibbering wreck. So it tak`s some courage for me tae even psyche meself up tae get on thon boat and go there. Add tae that I get seasick on a puddle and, well, the wind disnae dae me ony favours.
I looked at the Orcadian online tae see if they kenned what the weather would be doing next week. "Gales" jumped oot at me right awa! "Wind"!
I am hoping they`re wrong...they have been afore. Well, quite often really...so I`m hoping they`re wrong again this week.
But it disnae bode well for yours truly...dae I suffer the boat, a whole hour and forty minutes o` puking ower the side and feeling dizzy and no` weel?
Or dae I chicken oot and see if I can mak an appointment for a calmer time o` year?
Teeth...no` one o` natures great success stories really.

Weel, I`m off tae see tae the range. The wind is coming frae the West today, so at least the fire isnae reeking doon the lum. It is eating the coal fine style, but gieing oot a guidly heat and no` having us hae tae keep the doors and windows open, which defeats the purpose o` a fire really.
Muttermutter....dashed wind! Roll on summer!

Yesterday I looked oot the window. There, under the dog rose bushes, still winter-bare and rattling in the strong wind, was a wee bundle o` feathers, preening and peering aboot tae see what was aroond.
The distance atween the window and the bushes is only some dozen feet, but still, I took the binoculars tae me een, and peered through them. And sure enough, there it was, a fine kestrel, beak tweaking and preening wing and breast, eyes bright and keen.
I watched the visitor for a guid five minutes, and still, there he sat, until, convinced he was hurt, I put on me wellies and ...I thought...stealthily crept roond the corner o` the hoose tae mak sure he was ok.
I`m no` awfu sure which one o` us got the biggest fright...me at getting sae close tae him then having him alicht all o` a sudden a foot frae me een, or him for no` seeing me until the last minute.
But off he took, though he found it awfu hard to get onywhere in the strong wind, and that made me ken fine why he was sitting sae long under me bushes.
So I stood for a peedie blink and watched him ride the currents and veer off tae the back o` the byres. Then went back inside, glad tae be oot o` the cauld.
And watched, frae the window, me wee pals the moorhens come back through the fence and hunker doon aside the geese, feeling perhaps a wee bitty braver noo the big kestrel was awa`.

Well the rain is pouring doon, the wind is blowing up a hoolie, and I`m for the indoors today for sure!
One of oor geese is building a nest in her hutch, the others standing guard as she does it in atween snatching moothfulls o` grass and barley. Whilst it`s grand tae see such industry at work, I am a peedie bit worried aboot the forecast o` severe weather coming oor way next week, for if it`s as bad as they say it will be then being the softie that I am, I`ll need tae be takin` the geese in by tae keep them safe frae a` manner o` flying debris we can get here when the gales hit. Och, though, I`ll just wait and see, ye never ken what the weather will dae, and the cheery folks that forecast the weather rarely seem tae get it right.

Me auld spinning wheel gets dusted doon today and put intae use aside the stove in the warm. I`m tae be doing a demonstration o` weaving on the Viking warp weighted loom in August, so that means I need wool tae weave with. Oor auld sheep (called "Sheep") provides plenty o` that....we shear him once a year and get twa or three bags o` find lanolin rich wool frae him. And it`s a pot luck every year what colours will be in it, for he`s a black sheep technically, but that wool comes off his back in shades o` dove grey and caramels and rich chocolate browns and creams. I hae plenty o` bags o` wool left so will sit aside the stove and warm me auld bones and get tae spinning. I spin the wool raw, leaving the lanolin in it and wash it once spun and plied if I need it degreased. Truth be told, I like spinning it raw, it`s good for me hands and I like the texture o` the wool when it`s spun.
Me other half managed to figure oot how tae dismantle the loom, so that is doon and ready for transportation when needed, and it`s already strung up wi` the stone weights all in a guddle on the floor.
In the Viking times, both women and menfolks took their turn at weaving. Back then, ye see, ye couldnae readily gaun oot and nip tae the shops tae buy clothes. Ye`d tae rely on the traders coming tae your township or homestead, and that wasnae a regular thing, or on haeing the money tae send your man on a buying trip tae get ye the cloth so ye could mak up you`re ain clothes and bedding and a` the other things we tak for granted nooadays.
Folks forget how precious cloth was in times past.
So this loom was always set up in the longhoose, and somebody would ayeways be at it, weaving tae mak sailcloth for the longships or for bedding or for clothing.
It maks ye appreciate it a` the more, when ye hae tae dae it frae scratch and see the work that goes intae producing a warm and wearable cloth.
Having said that, the Vikings were fine and great traders and cam back frae their journeys wi` a` manner o` riches, including silks frae the East. They would trade their ain wool and furs and salted meats and more, for the foodstuffs, drinks and other goods they couldnae mak in their ain countries. And the Vikings were vain folks! Oh aye, they liked tae decorate themselves and their womenfolks wi` a` manner o` loot! The women were recorded as dripping wi` ornate jewellery (some o` which would hae been melted doon previously raided church-gotten booty) and the menfolks were considered so vain they would even use a form o` eyeliner tae decorate their een!
They must hae been fine bonny creatures tae look at though. A far cry frae the common image o` fierce barbarians needing a guid bath! Most folks dinnae ken that Viking age folks had bath hooses attached tae their communities.
Och, listen tae me rattling on! Sorry!
Anyways, that is why me wheel will be seeing the light o` day this afternoon. I need tae mak a guidly pile o` spun wool tae tak wi` me tae the demonstration, and given the size o` the loom, that`s a lot !
And in atween a` that spinning I`ll be working a couple o` sheepskins, which, thank the gods, is a job I can dae indoors. I hae a couple of fine thick and large hides which are coming oot richt supple and bonny, so I`m happy enough wi` them.
And doing me hoosewifely stuff tae...it`s no a popular thing tae say nooadays, but I actually like hoosework. Forget a` your "keep fit by walking/doingthe gym/pilates" rubbish...a days guid hoosework keeps ye fit enough! And there is something awfu satisfying aboot sitting doon at the end o` the day in a fairly tidy wee hoose and kenning that you made it that way.
So I`m making bread today, two batches, a normal white and an oatmeal loaf. And steeping pulses for making the soup tomorrow.
And even though it`s chucking it doon, I can still dae me washing and get it dry wi` using the wee pulley ower the stove. So I`m thankful for that, for I wouldnae like tae be relying on an expensive tumble drier in weather like this.

The kestrel came back yesterday. We cannae figure oot if he is hanging aroond, like the moorhens, for the grain we put oot for the geese, or if he is after the moorhens themselves, for they always keep awa` when he`s aboot, and are shy and feared o` him. It seems tae me, that he would have tae be an awfu strong kind o` bird tae tak doon a moorhen...they seem aroond the same size tae me...but I hae seen owls fight wi` big blackback gulls so who`s tae say? But it is a nice sight tae see him flitting aboot the garden or sitting on the telephone wire preening his feathers.
When we first moved tae Sanday, me son mentioned up at the school that there had been a barn owl roond oor garden. One o` the teachers there had said "Rubbish! There are no owls on Sanday!".
She was proved wrong time and time again as the owl was sighted by more than us. And noo there are more than one o` them, so they seem tae be successful here and thriving, which is nice tae see.
Whar I grew up, we`d a variety o` wildlife...I mind best the red deer and one night driving hame wi` me mam and dad in the car when a wildcat got caught in the headlights. Me mam said tae me dad, "Go on then, get oot and move it or we`ll be here a` night!" because the cat just stood there, wi` its back arched and hissing at us. But me dad just shook his heid and we waited for a guid few minutes til it went it`s ain way in it`s ain sweet time...for that cat was big!
And I mind seeing pine martens and a wheen o` birds wha`s names I didnae ken.
But here, on Sanday, it`s mainly a` the birds. Wild birds coming frae far and wide tae ower winter, or the throngs o` starlings and curlews and the noisy oystercatchers. I even hae a merlins wings. The bird itself had been decapitated by a wire fence in a gale years ago noo. So I took the wings and dried them oot and they are still fine bonny things, speckled and banded.
I miss the red deer though, and the pheasants.
But today, everything is hunkering doon in the lash o` the wind and the pelt o` the rain. I dinnae blame them and will be doing the same meself.

We did hae a caravan, securely tied doon, until Saturday nights storm force winds. Me other half had tae gaun oot and smash a window to get oot the dog and cat who overnight in the van (not being housetrained..we got them both that way!) who were both, luckily, ok if a peedie bit scared. We hae a fair bit o` storm damage but are managing fine...when the Hydro went off overnight and a` morning, we used oor wee generator tae power the freezers and me incubator...I dinnae ken how long the thing was withoot heat so am keeping me fingers crossed for the eggs...
Yours truly was awake frae 2am wi` the soond o` the howling wind, which was awfu fierce and stronger than I hae heard for a long time. So I`m a bitty tired and just posting what happened tae oor caravan. It is still there (this is Sunday night I am typing this) and me other half will no` be able to see tae it until tomorrow when wi` ony luck the wind will ease off...although, according to the weather, it`s no likely tae dae that.
onyway, I`m hoping that everyone else in the North and Western Isles is faring fine wi` the storm and hunkering doon til it passes ower.

So himself gauns oot tae the byre this morning and then I hear a shout tae "come here the noo"....
and there, in his arms, is the bonniest wee piebald goatkid, freshly born and shivering wi` the cauld.
For it is fearfu` cauld in the byres, even wi` layers o` straw and the doors tight shut, your breath mists up and if it got ony caulder ye would hear it tinkle as it dropped tae the floor....
Onyway, the wee kid was no` looking awfu weel, so I lifted her oot o` his arms and brought her in by the trusty auld warhorse o` a stove.
Half an hoor in the warm oven perked her up, then another half hoor o` cuddles frae yours truly, and meself and himself had tae wonder how to mak` sure she didnae have tae gaun back intae the icy cauld byre.
We hae a porch o` sorts attached tae the ootside door. It has doors at both ends, and windows, so we`ve blocked one end off and put doon a thick layer o` straw and added some hay bales for guid measure, and we put the new nan in there wi` fresh water, barley and hay. Like a` new mams, she was fair starving hungry and set tae the food fine style.
Her udder was fu` up so we milked a wee bitty off her tae ease the tightness o` it, then set and guided the goatkid tae the teats and after a few misplaced squirts, she soon got the message and began tae drink.
I put a portable gas heater in the other end o` the porch, and will leave it on as long as we can, it tak`s the bite oot o` the cauld and has done the wee kid and her mam a wheen o` guid.
So as of this afternoon, both are doing alright, although we are aware the kid might no` mak` it through the night. Fingers crossed though. I hope she does.
If all goes weel and she does mak it through her first night, I`ll post a picture o` her tomorrow, she is awfu cute!
Bit o` a bitter cauld time o` year tae be coming intae the world though....

the other half managed tae get the caravan back on its twa wheels, though it is a wee bit lopsided still. He also had tae board up the broken window and find a board for the skylight which took off and ended up twa fields awa!
I had a wheelbarrow which is now in tiny bits, what puzzles me though is the large metal wheel is nae whar tae be seen! So the wind has claimed it for a prize, greedy wind...
The pond at the side o` the track keeps flooding...it bleeds intae another pond further doon the track and that leads intae the sea, but the tides are awfu high this time o` year and the whole thing backs up and frequently floods the track...times like this, we could dae wi` oor ain boat!

Here she is! Cute as a button.

We hae had twa whole days o` sunshine! I may pass oot wi` the shock, just...
I could even hang me washing ootside, and watch it dry in a fairly gentle wind. Mind you, for Sanday, that gentle wind is still a bit blowy compared tae elsewheres.
The wind is also handy for hair drying...I wash me hair then gaun ootside tae dae a bit o` gardening or just sit oot the front o` the hoose (aye, I can be richt lazy sometimes when the sun shines) and just watch the view ower the Peedie Sea across tae Stronsay where on a bright day we can even see their turbines.
The eleven moorhens are so friendly noo, they just gie me a quick look when I gaun in the garden tae mak` sure it is me, then get back tae poking aroond the grass and sauntering intae the vegetable plots tae see what they can scavenge. We let the hens oot the byres last week, they were fairly on a high as they strutted aroond as much o` the garden as they could, in as short a time as they could. Trouble is, wi` the goose nesting, the other geese hae turned as territorial as the SAS. So when I looked up and saw the cockerel go flying past like Michael Schumacher, I figured something was just no` quite right.
See, his hens were on one side o` the rose bushes, and he wanted them ower beside himself. But in atween the hens and him were twa geese, necks ootstretched and hissing awa` like angry kettles! And every time he tried tae get tae his ladies, one o` the geese would tak` off and fair go at him!
So enter yours truly, taking life intae her hands by standing in front o` twa angry geese and trying a completely ineffectual "shoo g`won buggeroff"! at them. Needless tae say, it was ignored. So nothing for it, I took a run at them and that worked. I am just richt glad naebody saw me dae it....
in the meantime the cockerel ran straight for his ladies and they were reunited wi` much cluck and fuss. And noo I hae noticed, the geese mak` sure their territory is well patrolled and the cockerel and his hens keep tae the permiter o` it...but I still see the hens eyeing the goose space wi` eyes that seem tae think the grass is greener there....so will keep a lookoot for mair trouble.
The wee goatkid is doing no` too bad, though she is still no` as bouncy as she should be. I`m fairly convinced it is only the cauld nichts that is affecting her, when I bring her in aside the stove, she gets warmer quickly and is just fine, but I dinnae dae that often for her mam gets distressed at being seperated and has a noisy bleat I`m sure can be heard in Kirkwall! So we still hae the gas heater oot there, and on a` nicht, and she hasnae pegged oot yet so that is hopeful.
She is feeding fine, a guid fat wee puggy she has on her, and mam is aye ways hungry and producing a lot o` guid milk.
Afore I settle doon for the nicht, I go oot and check on them. Mam is usually dozing off, wi` the wee one cuddled up aside her flanks and wi` her wee nose tucked intae mams belly. Mam usually gies me a wee whicker and bleat, then gets back tae chewing and dozing.
My friend was visiting and has named the kid Floppy, I dinnae usually name me beasts, but it suits her. Both her ears are just...well...floppy, and she does a fine impression o` being...floppy....I can gaun oot tae check during the day and there she is, lying doon, and I get tae thinking, "I`m sure she`s no` breathing" so I dae what maist folks would dae...gie her a wee gentle poke! But she still doesnae shift, so I hae tae pick her up, and that is when she decides tae come alive and bleat for a` she`s worth and get mam ggoing tae so in sic a wee place as the porch, it`s a richt cacophony o` bleating goats....

Oor storm damage mounts up....one damaged but repaired caravan, one demolished drystane wall, four wheelbarrows ruined (twa ornamental heavy wood ones and twa metal working ones) wi` a` being left o` one o` them, the left handle....slates off and guttering torn and the garden looks like world war three blew ower it and flattened onything ower three inches high.
But it could hae been worse, so I`m no` ower much fussed.
This time o` year is a guid one for me..I am able tae prop me strung sheepskins on their frames ootdoors tae help drying. It`s a great help, so long may the sun continue here! Plus, the fresh air just scents the wool fine style, the same as it does tae my washing...which I must just gaun oot and fetch in afore dark!

Ha! There I was, at the kitchen window washing the breakfast dishes up, and out o` the wee pophole in the wall o` the byre I see this white streak o` lightning whizz past the window....
followed quickly by another, then a racket as me geese tak` off after them both...
Me hens, denied freedom tae roam due tae the geese, hae worked oot how tae get past these greatest o` guard "dogs"...
Sheer speed! So I watched and saw the other hens and twa cockerels launch themselves oot of the pophole and ower the low stane wa`, afore the geese could blink they were just a blur, and gone....
The spirit o` Steve McQueen in The Great Escape is alive and well in a peedie flock o` chickens in Orkney.....

When I stand at my kitchen window, this is my view....there is the hutch me goose is currently nesting in, tethered doon against the gales and huddled up agin the stane byre wa`, which leans ower it protectively, gable ended and festooned each morning wi` starlings, sparrows and blackbirds. Then, ahind the fence, is a field that is flat and still grassed ower for the farmer tae put his kye intae sometime soon. And ahind that is another field which rises gently up, I call it a `hill` but nae doubt doon soothers would laugh at that, for it`s an awfu peedie slope, but for a` that it rises up tae meet the sky.
And it`s freshly ploughed, and tae yours truly that is a bonny sight tae see.
It always mak`s me think spring has finally decided tae visit Sanday tae see a ploughed field, the top grass taken off and the soil bared tae the sky so the sun can kiss it warm enough tae sow the seed for this years hay.
It`s a thing almost as old as mankind, that yearly baring o` the soil, and if ye could only peel back the years, ye could maybe see other folks peer oot their windows or stand at their croft doors and feel the warmth o` the early sunrise and get the intoxicating scent o` freshly turned soil in their nostrils and ken that the growing year has truly begun.
There is just something so simple, so clean, and somehow, right, in a freshly ploughed field. It mak`s my day tae see it there, dark against the green, wi` gulls and curlews whirling owerheid tae spy for insects and the remnants o` last years grain.
And this morning, a fine sea mist has rolled ower the isle, and crept up the track and is dancing aroond the ploughed field, but in among the clouded mists are wee shafts o` sunlight, weak but there. It`s a bonny day, richt enough.

I love dogs. Always had them, when I was a wee lassie me dad kept working dogs, sheep and gundogs, always contrary natured but awfu clever creatures they were. We werenae tae mak` pets oot o` them for fear o` `ruining` them.
Noo, we hae Lassie...she`s aroond ten years old, and a collie. Still thinks she`s a pup, fu` o` energy she is and wi` that affable look all collies have which say "I just want tae be your friend". Love her tae bits.
But this morning she has no` been verra bright. It`s a soft kind o` sunny day oot there...there was mist this morning and that shivering chill ye can get wi` ony mist that drifts ashore frae the sea. But the sun is striving awfu hard to break through and at times is mak`ing a fine show o` it indeed.
The sky looks like a pearl oot there, a` soft and gleaming, fine spring day it is. So I thought, we`ll tether the hound ootside whilst we`re working indoors so she can hae the benefit o` the fresh air and sunshine. We`ve done this often enough, there`s a tether sunk in nearby the caravan, which, if ye maun mind, was near on taken awa` wi` the last storm. But the other half righted it and let the air oot the tyres so it would sit lower tae the ground. We thought that would stop the wind getting under it and lifting it.
We didnae tak` burrowing hounds intae account though. So when we went oot after working tae bring her back in, it was just tae see a fluffy black and white backside wi` a wagging tail sticking oot frae under the van.
"Lassie, come oot o` there!"
"Whuff"...that was muffled, by the way....
"Och dammit"
There was just nae way she was shifting. She was stuck. Fair happy wi` it though, no` in ony distress, in fact the tail kept up its `thump thump` on the ground and she gave oot the occasional pleased-sounding "whuff" as me son had tae go and get the spade and dig her oot!
Ten minutes later, there is a fair sized hole under the caravan and one happy, completely mucky, grinning and tail thumping dog wi` a clarty auld bone in her mooth.....
She`s just been banished tae the garage until I can gie her a bath. She needs one.

She didnae mak` it, guys. :( I think, she was just too poorly frae the start. Sorry. :(
Himself has had to bury her and we`re milking mam.