Diary of a Highland Lady - August/September 2003
Ahoy there, and avast behind! No, I don't mean a rear view of Dr June, I'm practising nautical terms in readiness for my sea voyages. A recent acquisition here at Croit Cullach is a boat and I'm looking forward to sailing the Seven Seas, shivering my timbers and other things that buckle your swashes.
Well, at any rate, a trip round the loch and tootle across to the Summer Isles to visit my two albino hob friends there. I shall have to work out what to do about a life jacket, though. Dr June's experiment of strapping me on to an inflated surgical glove is, quite frankly, stupid - although the possibilities of making rude gestures with the fingers could be amusing. Anyway, watch out for a 'ship's log' attached to my diary in the future.
The boat was brought up by friends from England who stayed for a few days to show Dr Jeff the ropes. Dr June went potty in the kitchen and all sorts of Highland Fare graced the table. Out came the venison and the pheasant and the salmon. Very nice too - if you don't enquire too closely about it, if you see what I mean. I don't know what fancy names she gave the dishes but I can tell you they were probably more likely to have been Poacher's Pot or Ragout of Roadkill. Roast lamb was not on the menu. Dolcie, Lamb from Hell, plus sidekick Josie, Deputy Lamb from Hell, were still too much part of the family for this to be politically correct, although they are now thankfully out in the fields and out of my kitchen.
The Three Masketeers (aka The Royal Scots Raccoon Guards) are trying out new occupations. First foray into suitable careers was pick-pocket. Poor Bedfordshire Badger had all his pockets turned out when he was staying with us, and they almost got away with his watch and ring
Next bit of work experience they tried was plumbing. Taps and plugholes have always been a fascination so they've had a sink installed in their outside run (en-suite animal enclosures, indeed!) Great for fresh water, not so good when they stuff grapes up the taps. Knowing them they are probably trying to ferment them. Latest occupation is demolition expert. I think they've found their niche. You name it, they trash it. You've probably heard people say about us ferrets 'If they can reach it, they can wreck it'. Well, think mega-league wrecking and you are in raccoon territory. I don't know why Dr June and Dr Jeff put up with it. In fact, if they wanted hooligans, why didn't they just offer homes to Milwall supporters? There's no limit to their other peculiarities, either. There's something going to happen involving a bee-hive. What, I'm not sure. Either we are all going in for the honey business or Dr June's going in for a daft hairstyle.
We can only wait and see.