I HAD to fight my way through a proper bourach of wriggling, tail-wagging dogs to meet Carol Begg, founder and rescue coordinator of Perthshire Gundog Rescue.
CHARLES EDWARD Louis John Casimir Sylvester Severino Maria Stuart – a bit of a mouthful, but that was Bonnie Prince Charlie. I wonder how well he’d have got on in the playground – at least the one I remember – if his school mates had known his full name. But I doubt if the Wee Academy at Montrose was ever graced by royalty.
THE WINTER morning sun colours the landscape an atmospheric buttery golden yellow. There’s less strength in the sun at this time and it sits low in the sky. Its trajectory from east to west never reaches summertime’s midday zenith.
THERE ARE seasons in the Doyenne’s year when her kitchen takes on the steamy atmosphere of the witches cave in Shakespeare’s play, Macbeth. Late summer and early autumn is the season for jams and jellies made from the wild rasps and brambles and other hedgerow glories that I pick for her. January is home-made marmalade season.
THE DOYENNE and I have been entertaining her New Zealand niece and her fiancé, who we were meeting for the first time. We had ideas of interesting places to go but after a month of living out of suitcases Claire and Graham opted for staying close to home so we spent an informative morning at the Montrose Air Station Heritage Centre.
I DON’T see it the place of this column to tell drivers how they should restrain their dogs when they are in their cars but sometimes dog owners are plain thoughtless about what they allow their dogs to do. One such was the driver I followed who let their small terrier sit on top of the driver’s seat jammed between the headrest and the driver’s head.
I ALWAYS appreciate letters I receive from readers. The most recent was sent by a Group of Oldies. They gave no address so I am acknowledging their kind thoughts here. They ask if robins are “sometimes violent wee birds as they always look so timid”.
WE WOKE up on Monday to our first frosted grass, frozen windscreen morning of autumn and by the time Inka and I went out for the early walk the clouds had rolled away and the sun was shining in a cornflower blue sky.
THIS WEEK I revisited Murton Farm Nature Reserve situated two miles outside Forfar, on the A932 Forfar-Friockheim road. The reserve was created from 80 acres of worked-out sand and gravel quarries. Over twelve years, what was derelict wasteland has been brought back into proper balance and transformed into an asset that is of value to nature, wildlife, the environment and the community.