Embers
Embers. As in, we’re now in the four ‘embers’ - September through to December. The best part of the year. I’ve even made a new Instagram account dedicated to all things ‘embers’ (but haven’t managed to post anything yet) because it’s been such a busy few weeks.
We’ve had so much interest in the house, and things are proceeding - we’re cautiously optimistic - but it gets very complicated because the system is different here in Scotland, and as with all house sales, there are lots of things which could potentially go wrong and then everything falls through. There have been one or two time wasters, but we’re not showing anyone around unless they’re credible potential buyers. We got messed around last weekend and it won’t happen again. The house attracts people who want to have a nosey around simply to satisfy their own curiosity and not because they have any intention of moving. This is a nuisance, of course, and it’s disingenuous. And really, really annoying.
Still, we’ve got our fingers (loosely) crossed for now. I try not to think too far ahead or to get my hopes up but that’s not easy.
I started my new job and put in a few extra days. That was my choice because I’m enjoying it, and I work with a friendly team of people in nice surroundings with good coffee and I wear an apron like a proper shopkeeper. Who doesn’t love an apron?
Joe’s had to come in with me a few times but he has a playmate there so it’s not too tricky, and the plan was always for the job to be flexible around school and our extremely limited childcare options. Monday and Tuesday were inset days at school but we got through them and out the other side.
I did my Inverness trip. Spectacular scenery from start to finish but it’s such a long drive, and pretty tiring. When you reach the Skye bridge coming back there’s still another hour left to go. I did manage to buy Joe some new PJs and the Tintin book he’d requested, plus scented candles and a few other things. But to be honest it’s usually like a bank raid once you’re there: in and out as quickly as possible.
So that’s everything pretty much up to date.
Yesterday was the first time I’d been on my own for a while so I went out for a walk. It’s definitely autumn now. We’ve had a few visits from a baby toad who likes to come into the kitchen late at night (this is a yearly event) and lots of house spiders are lurking in the shadowy places.
I found a hidden path. It has no signs by it, and because I usually drive by - it’s next to a fast road - I didn’t know it even existed. So off I went. You never know where these paths will take you, but I like that. There was a field and a huge thicket of brambles, then you went alongside a river (steep drop) through lots of hazels and into a clearing. There were three or four big horse chestnut trees and I can honestly say I’ve never seen as many conkers in my life. The ground was completely covered in them. My first thought was that Joe would love it, and then that I’d bring him back after school with a bag for the conkers and a little bucket for the blackberries.
So after a bit of investigation (faffing about opening conkers) I carried on, the path winding upwards through the woods and past a little stream (more horse chestnut trees), before coming out onto a lane which led back down to the main road.
Some pictures here will look familiar, because it’s one of my favourite places to walk, by the Skeabost Hotel and River Snizort. It felt like I’d met up with autumn and we’d decided to walk together. So many seasonal things: rusting bracken, mushrooms, rosehips, woodsmoke, birches with their leaves turning gold, hazel nuts ripening, bright hawthorn berries.
Even though I prefer a moody photograph, it was a bright and blowy day and perfect for being out and about. We’ve had stormy weather recently - which probably explains all those conkers having been blown down before they’re fully ready - so it was good to get some sun. Talking of photos, I’ve been trying to suss Jay’s (expensive) Canon camera out and have given up for now. The manual rivals War and Peace in terms of length and comprehensibility (sorry, Tolstoy fans). My old Nikon and me, we’re like best friends who know what the other one’s thinking and finish each other’s sentences. I’m happy with that. I also like editing in Lightroom, so if it ain’t broke etc etc.
That house in the picture above, by the way, is one of my many favourites on Skye. The silvery, weathered wood! The huge windows looking out across the water! The armchair with the cosy sheepskin! It also has a wood burning stove and a productive-looking garden.
Maybe if I had an armchair like that, by a window like that, I’d read Tolstoy.
Of course I wouldn’t. But I do fantasise about sitting there with a novel for hours on end. Alone.
So when I got home I had a late, rushed lunch (cottage cheese and an apple - very 1980s ‘I’m slimmimg right now’ fare. I remember my mum and her friends eating this sort of depressingly unsatisfying stuff, along with hazelnut yogurt of all things).
Then I rustled up a Lancashire hotpot and shoved it in the oven before going to collect Joe for a return trip to the conker woods.
We filled a few bags. He was very impressed and we agreed to keep the exact location a secret. Then we picked blackberries until our hands got too scratched and the midges saw us off (why do they always go for my eyelids?) but we had enough for a blackberry and apple crumble cake. I could be predictable and bake it on Saturday morning, just before the house viewing we have booked, to fill the house with nice baking aromas. But I won’t. I’ll do it later in the day.
Oh, also: I bought Baileys. Last night I made a Baileys coffee and tried it without sugar, but that didn’t work so out came the demerara. Then it was perfect.
There are still no signs of the library reopening, but there are a few books I haven’t finished yet so that’s OK. One I gave up on because it was boring, the other - Horatio Clare’s The Light in the Dark: A Winter Journal I started ages ago, but have since restarted it from the beginning. I’d recommend it - his writing is very lyrical and evocative. I’m also getting towards the end of More Tales from the End Cottage by Eileen Bell. There are two volumes in the series, written in the early 1970s, and they’re children’s books but I love their simplicity and humour. I think they’re out of print now.
I’m also pretty sure I’ve mentioned them here before - they’re that good.
Anyway… It’s almost time for Joe’s bath which may or may not be followed by another Baileys. Then work tomorrow, and straight after that someone’s coming out to do some kind of timber report on the house. And immediately after that I’m collecting Joe from school and (weather permitting) taking him over to Colbost because some friends have asked if he wants to go kayaking and he’s beyond excited about it.
We have the viewing on Saturday morning, a school friend coming over in the afternoon, and nothing planned for Sunday. We need a day off! Sundays really are becoming sacred around here.
Finally, thank you for your comments and emails. I don’t always manage to reply but I do read and appreciate them all.
