Meltdown

There are downsides to living in the middle of bloody nowhere: one such is that the phone comes to us over a good few miles of oldfashioned poles and cable rather than new-style underground conduits, and last Friday, there was an electrical storm which scored a direct hit on the phone line and melted my modem. It took days to get the phone itself connected, since we were far from being the only victims of that particular storm and it has taken several more days to get my computer up and running – hence another long gap in transmission.
There is not an awful lot going on, apart from the ceaseless hum of four books being written in the four corners of the house. The front of the bothy roof has been entirely reslated by the Master Builder and looks wonderful; the Turra Show is fast approaching, so the horse Winston is being groomed within an inch of his wicked old life; a merry gang of Highland scaffolders who were going to be ‘with us on Monday, well maybe midweek’ have yet to appear; Dr Biswell was precipitated into a holly bush by the lawnmower (Dr B, and the holly are both recovering nicely but the ride-on has a flat tyre) and most of the tall batchelors have returned to their avocations. Gosh, it can be exciting in the country. As my dear old neighbour used to say, ‘No news so will close now’.

One Response to “Meltdown”

  1. bruckmann Says:

    July comes through without cropping. The calendar inset in August is what screws it up. p

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