THE LOW winter sun on Tuesday made driving home over the Cairn o’ Mount difficult. After three days of Storm Barbara and Storm Conor’s tantrums we were delighted to see the sunshine and feel its warmth on our faces, but there were moments when I practically had to stop I was so nearly blinded.
ONE THING leads to another. Last week I wrote about the Iron Kirk and that brought to mind another iron structure that I hadn’t seen for a lot of years. It’s nearer to home and I knew that a visit to it would lead on to an ideal riverbank walk for Inka.
WRITING ABOUT Glen Prosen recently recalled a memory from more than sixty years ago. My father grew up in Kirriemuir and Prosen was his favourite of the Angus glens. He was a great one for expeditions and one Saturday he took me to see a wee building hidden amongst woods at the foot of the glen. It was the Iron Kirk.
CATS DON’T get much of an airing in this column. It’s not that as a family we have an aversion to them, just that we’ve never been very successful as cat people. So, long ago we decided that we were better sticking to dogs.
I’VE SPENT several evenings leafing through what some might call a scrap book – and in some respects it is – but I have found it to be a fascinating journal of one family from the early 1970s to the last entry dated 9th April 2005. Not that it particularly records what the family did during those years but rather it is a record of newspaper cuttings of events and memories and people that the family wanted to preserve.