The sun shone briefly today in the lull before the storm but at least I managed a photo of sorts showing the Givi topbox mounted on the ADV750.
Looks quite neat on the big scoot —
Although Loki isn’t much interested —
Seems he would rather suck an old fir tree branch.
With Zero degrees registering on the dash and visibility down to not-a-lot due to a stubborn Scotch Mist up here in the hills the Yeti with trailer was the weapon of choice and I hi-ho’d into Glasgow to pick our ADV750 from the supplying main dealer where it has been for it’s first service. The Service didn’t take long but our decision to fit Helen’s 45/46 litre Givi topbox to the scoot put the Givi people on the spot as it seems they didn’t have the neccessary ironmongery to allow the job to procceed.
No worries – a neat fitment eventually turned up and we are pleased to confirm our joint concerns that the slim rear of the ADV might be overwhelmed by the biggish box have come to nought. No pics as yet of the box fitted but I’m sure the sun will shine sometime soon. In the meantime here’s one of the front end sporting a beat-up pair of Acerbis handguards which graced the bars of my XT600E on many a mad exploit over hill and dale from Shropshire to the Cardigan Bay coast back in the Noughty Nineties —
And – I’m afraid you will have to watch this spot for a photo of the ADV with box on the back. With the high pillion footpegs it was always going to be a lottery whether H stayed on board when I gave the 750 the berries but hopefully there’s no chance of her disappearing over the back now we have the Givi topbox bolted in there tight.
Having the bikes by the back door gives me that eager feeling again that Spring is just around the corner.
Hame’s best for a good haddock anyway. Walked along the street with the good Lady Helen for a cappo this morning before she drove back to the Isle of Luing to take part in Drama rehearsal for the play which goes on next month and not only did our famous baker Campbell’s come up with a couple of my favourite baps – softies as the counter assistant called them – looking for all the world like a pale morning roll – softies – or safties as my mother would say in her never-lost Aberdeenshire country twang – have a lighter texture than the morning roll and have n’t gone stale by mid-afternoon when most of us working loons were looking for a simple piece to keep us going till tea-time.
Another favourite of mine is the haddock. With cod stocks reported to be running low the plentiful north sea caught haddock is back in fashion. When I lived in these parts before – vans from the Neuk o’ Fife or Arbroath harbours would call in on a once-weekly visit to the villages and sell their fresh catches.
Today to my surprise and probably because of the haddock having moved north due to Global Warming it was a fellow biker Wull with his van – all the way from the fishing village of Buckie on the Morayshire coast who stopped for an hour in the town-centre car park opposite the bakery! His fresh haddock looked good and having caught up with news of some of my old biking mates from that part of the country it wasn’t long before a couple of said haddock were nestling in my fridge and I knew what I was having for dinner.
Dipped in a beaten egg and coated with proper breadcrumbs – fried to golden perfection and served on the warmed plate with steamed broccoli and a sliced lightly toasted and buttered saftie – I had that for dinner tonight and it melted in the mouth. Tasted like sheer decadence – for not a lot of dosh. I think I’m going to like Wednesdays.
So – while the lady of the house is off on the Isle of Luing doing her Drama – Seamus keeps her seat cosy —
and Loki dozes quietly on the fireside rug —
Yes – peace reigns – but which of us do you think is going to have to wash the dishes?
Hard to believe that just a few short months ago I thought that I would spend what was left of my life on the Isle of Luing and was even choosing my spot in the ancient graveyard – but – as ever in life things can change virtually overnight.
Well to be honest the decision to move may have been made overnight but the reality took a little longer. The pro’s and con’s of living on what is treated by many as a remote farmhouse with an inaccessible track on a small island sort of balance each other out but once health or poor health issues come into play there is only ever going to be one winner if we want to keep our independence and sanity.
As luck would have it a brief search found a suitable single storey house in my old ‘stamping ground’ of West Perthshire where every twisting – undulating lochside road felt like racetrack to a young motorcyclist with a full life ahead of him – mountains to climb and races to ride. That was over sixty years ago – I am so lucky to be able to return to these parts still in one piece.
We are in early February 2020 – there’s only one more cardboard box to unpack and this little cottage in the heart of the village – or small town of Comrie is bursting at the seams. Charities have benefited from loads of furniture and other ‘useful’ stuff we thought we couldn’t do without – don’t need – or can’t find room for as Helen and I endeavour to downsize. There’s still lot’s to do – a sailing boat and assorted gear – plus a horsebox and bikes to move but we will get there.
Loki our two years old flatcoat retriever and Seamous our three years old ginger tom have surprised us by taking the move from isolation to here in the heart of Comrie in their stride and if anything have grown even closer to us. Who would have guessed that would happen.
No pics this Post I’m afraid but no worries – I’m sure there will be soon. What feels like a new life is kicking into gear and Helen n I are already embracing it.
Thanks to everyone who continues to follow my blog at ‘givitsum-from-a distance’ even when there’s not much going on – I intend to sort that out very soon — Donald.
There was a time if I needed logs for the winter fire I would grab my chainsaw – jump in my pickup truck and hi-ho off to the forest to cut a load of ash – but that was then – this is now and that miserable pile in the corner will barely keep the wee wifie warm for another day.
Every sad soul in the country would appear to have a woodburner and it’s not so easy to find fuel for them. Ash for instance is in short supply in these parts but oak is obtainable if expensive as most of it comes by boat from Latvia. Being a tight sod I have plumped for larch as it is plentiful and as it doesn’t cost the earth to kiln dry can be found at a fair price.
Time to hook up the trailer and go getsum.
Mmmm- looks good and feels ok — no point running with half a load.
If it was oak one bag would be enough but Larch is lightweight by comparison – the down side being it burns away more quickly.
Get in there!
Now that’s what I call a load! I had better transfer some of it to the Yeti estate car for safety.
The proof was in the pulling – she hauled it home to the Isle of Luing and up our rough old farm track to the house no problem at all.
M-mmm — that looks a bit healthier —
and ofcourse – there’s always the oil burner to fall back on if we do run out of logs.
But on a dreich day like today with high winds and driving rain the fire wins hands down every time.
With a nice warm tummy after spending a wild night outdoors – Seamus is more than happy —
and with Loki warming his backside in the glow – peace reigns in the givit household.
Particularly when the weather forecaster’s have plumped for high winds and wet weather blowing in from the east —
Thankfully they would appear to have it wrong. Right from ‘early doors’ when Loki came bounding out of his kennel – it has been brilliant sunshine all the way —
with even a touch of frost first thing.
It didn’t linger long and Loki’s tongue was soon hanging out even more than mine as we made our way across the fields above the village —
with long shadows cast from the sun on my back —
Hasn’t he got a lovely sheen on his coat as he prepares for the winter. He probably benefits from sleeping outdoors in his purpose-built kennel through any weather.
Our favourite walk takes us across the bull’s field. Just as well they will soon be taken indoors for the winter because by the look of that shattered gate they could be arriving at our door without an invitation any time soon.
This fella is probably the smallest of the nine bulls we have billeted around us at the moment but what he lacks in size he makes up for in tricky temperament – typical ‘little man’ syndrome!
‘Red sky at night – shepherd’s delight’ —
How many times have we heard that old saying?
and is there any truth in the old homily?
Tomorrow should tell —
for this evening we have a red sky in the west.
The weather forecast for tomorrow offers 50mph gales and heavy rain coming in from the east with a significant drop in temperature.
Can’t imagine there will be too many Delighted Shepherds around in the morning but for most it will just mean turning the heater controls up a notch in their air-conditioned crew-cab pickup trucks.
Things have changed since my days in the fields over sixty years ago when my first job on leaving school was pulling and shawing turnips alone in a 20 acre field on that aptly named farm – The Mains of Panholes – next to the sumptuous Gleneagles Hotel and golfcourses. Gloves or even sensible items of weather protection were for sissies or rich farmer’s son’s in those far-off days. My schoolboy hands quickly became virtually useless in the cold east winds. Tears formed icicles on my frozen cheeks and I couldn’t have felt more pain had a miss-judged blow from the razor sharp steel cleek clumsily swung by my right hand – severed the numb fingers from my pulling left to join the all-too slowly growing rows of topped and tailed turnips forming in that god-forsaken field. The never-ending drills of turnips ran down to the main Aberdeen – London railway line and I vowed that one day I would be on a southbound train heading for a magical ‘Somewhere Else!’
In the intervening years there have been many somewhere else’s – some magical – some not-so-much – but none have left me with the bitter memories that being cast adrift on those frozen fields left me with back then.
No worries – something good may come of it – my book was to be called ‘Somewhere Else’ – should I ever get it finished. Research has shown that quite a few authors have used that title – so what! – ‘My Somewhere Else’ has a nice ring to it.
We are surrounded by roe deer at this time of year.
They keep an eye on our coming’s and going’s from the surrounding hill tops —
and raid the garden day and night every chance they get.
Helen’s kale patch has been stripped bare and they are now turning their voracious appetite on our fruit trees and various shrubs.
The roe deer appear to truly believe this part of the island including our garden belongs to them and that we are the interlopers —
More sunshine today so we did make sumthin of it —
Loki our flat coat retriever has web feet so he made the most of his chance —
to splash in the foam.
Ably supervised by Boss Lady back from her trip —
Down Souff —
Sunglasses are de rigueur on the few occasions that the sun favours us with it’s rays at this time of the year as it seldom climbs much above the skyline.
No worries – the reflection from the old Pan today is more than a match for it —
It was a great feeling just to be out there with her. Because of her weight and tight seat to peg configuration she is seldom first choice to come out of the shed but the old knees stood up well on today’s short ride.
While it looks as if the big rib has been hauled out and prepared for a winter on the trailer the Pan might be coming into it’s own. No point putting the new X-ADV 750 out on salt covered roads when the bold Pan can take them in it’s stride.
She has been up for sale for quite some time now without getting much interest so why not put her back to work.
No doubt the problem in that regard is more with myself than with the bike. The ‘givitsum look’ to prospective buyers/tyre-kickers probably says it all – ‘What do you mean you want to buy my bike for peanuts – can’t you see it’s one of the best on the road!’
