We were like escapees from prison, or in my case away from the washing cooking and cleaning.

The cottage was going to be empty for a week, and Rod made the suggestion that work could live without him for a while and did I fancy going up the road for a few days. I didn’t need to be asked twice, the bag was packed, children kissed, dog patted, and we are off!

We arrived at about 3am, I think most good souls although usually being in their beds at this unearthly hour, should really make the effort once in a while to be up, as we were to greet the dawn. This time of year in Scotland dawn breaks really early, before 4am. In fact it never really gets dark, being so far north, even at 11pm at night, things are still visible to the naked eye. Its wonderful having so long a day, and more than makes up for the winter, when days are shorter.

We retired for a couple of hours, when the sound of ‘baaing’ at closer quarters than usual woke me. The sheep are normally where sheep should be, in a field. However occasionally we are joined by Shaun, named and shamed by one of our visitors in the visitors book. Shaun, a ewe in spite of the name, seems to think the grass is greener on our side of the fence, and despite Rod’s efforts, as in the Olympics, of frequently raising the bar !, he manages every time to join us for breakfast. Some may say "ah how sweet" but have obviously never cleared up after one. It’s not just the non-existence of potty training, it’ also their "sweet" habit of having a good old scratch, normally along the walls of our white cottage. So Shaun and any of her pals have to go. This is usually achieved by screaming out of the window like a banshee, whereupon she’ll placidly carry on cropping my daffodils etc. Plan B is the most effective, telling Rod to get up and run out of the backdoor, screaming like a banshee, this works much better, although the absence of PJs may also have helped.

Who can blame Shaun for wanting to get into this haven!

A shower and cup of tea later Rods gone off to raise bar again, muttering something about roast lamb and mint sauce might be nice for dinner. I go out to refill my containers on the bird table. At this time of year they don’t really need to be fed, but they attract so many wonderful birds its worth the refill so that we can enjoy the greenfinches, chaffinches, and bluetits close to the conservatory windows.

For a while now, we have been looking for a car trailer, to use for logs and carrying other things we seem to always need, but won’t fit in a car. We scan the local paper and find one of the right size in Elgin. A bit of haggling later we are the new owners, have hitched up and are on the way home. Conscious that the number plate on it, and our car don’t match, we are expecting to feel the long arm of the law at any minute, however they were probably giving out parking tickets that day, so we escaped. The queue of traffic behind was patently not so impressed by our new trailer, as they kept trying to overtake us. Agreed because it was empty it did bounce about a bit, but I firmly turned down Rods offer that I may like to act as ballast and ride in the back!

Rod, on the left, with his new Air Rifle, (only for target practice of course) Howard can't stop smiling at Rod useless aim!

Next day we pop into Inverness for some ‘messages’ (Scottish for shopping) and in the afternoon head off for Drumnadrochit to look at a house we are interested in. The house is off towards Glen Affric and is a converted coach-house, looks lovely in the picture, but you know what they say about location, location, location!

The scenery is beautiful, but normal road gives way to one with passing places, which in turn becomes an unmade track, a long unmade track. It is already becoming a non-viability. We eventually see the house, the scenery around is stunning. Rhododendrons are in full bloom, and the garden drops away to the river and mountains beyond. It’s just too far for us, and I don’t think I would want to tackle that track everyday to get loaf of bread. Fortunately we haven’t made an appointment to view, preferring to do a ‘reccy’ first. Re-tracing our steps we stop off at the ‘Fiddlers’ in ‘Drum’, good food at reasonable prices, and the biggest bonus is, I didn’t have to cook it!

Owning a house now in Scotland subtly changes your status from tourist to resident, though I love nothing better than still doing touristy things, but nonetheless feel part of the community. Abriachan welcomed us when we first took up residence three years ago, and neighbours pop in whenever they see our car arrive, it’s lovely.