Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
Home From The Trossachs
by admin - 23:19 on 03 May 2010
Cats are sneaky creatures, and Bess is no exception. The day after Matchgirl cancelled her booking at Just Cats, and cancelled her own attendance at the bike club weekend, the untrustworthy animal made a miraculous recovery. Clearly she wanted mum to stay home with her.
Another relapse lasted just long enough for Matchgirl to abandon plans to come down to the Trossachs for one night. Once she'd got her way the Machiavellian moggy resumed normal eating, tree-climbing and playing.
The club weekend was based at the Ben Sheann Hotel in Strathyre. From there bikes ranged across an area including Rannoch Station, Aberfeldy, Killen, Loch Earn, Loch Tay and Pitlochry, where we marvelled at the fish ladder outside the dam. The scenery was spectacular and the lambs active. Much more eating than necessary took place in the hotel and cafés scattered all over the district. Matchgirl would have hated it.
Her consolation was a solo viewing of Mr Marten for five minutes on Sunday evening. No pictures though. Dolphin James saw his first marten if 2010 the same day, but as it was dead at the side of the road it doesn't really count. This was near Munlochy, so it's safe to say the accident victim wasn't our regular visitor.
The Pentax did accompany me, but SLRs and group motorcycling don't mix very well. The good news is that I've no work for the rest of the week, so have the opportunity to get snapping for the next few days. The bad news is that the weather forecast is miserable. Such is life.
The weather wasn't brilliant for the weekend but perked up today when I returned north up the A82 pursued by house guest Richard. Conditions were so good that we extended the journey by taking a voyage aboard the Corran ferry and looping through the wild lands of the Ardnamurchan Peninsula. I'd forgotten how good the roads are there.
Matchgirl was as delighted to see me again as I was to see her. Bess didn't care. Romeo has found his way home so perhaps she's other things on her mind.
During the weekend, two or three bike club colleagues asked me how my writing was going, which prompted much guilt on my part. I can at least report today that a story from my back catalogue, The Cat, was a runner-up in this year's competition held by Limnisa, a writers' retreat in Greece. All I won was honour – not the holiday claimed by the winner. Maybe next time.
Fresh literary output will be produced soon. All being well. I hope. Blame photogenic birds and the elusive Mr Marten.
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