5th November 2001

                    Dear All,

Just call me ‘Incensed of Brentwood’ or ‘Mrs Angry of Brentwood’, either would have done the other week when I put pen to paper and replied to a letter I had read in the Daily Mail. A lady had written complaining about the poor quality of self-catering cottages she had booked for holidays. Apparently they always needed cleaning before use, linen was always charged as an extra, and in general the décor and presentation was shoddy. In short we owners were a money-grabbing bunch passing off below par accommodation. Whilst I have been on the receiving end of such properties in the past, since becoming holiday rental owners Rod and I have done our utmost to provide visitors with a well presented cottage, which is clean and has linen, towels and much more included in the price. So on behalf of other owners such as we I became Mrs Angry and replied to this letter.

Much to my surprise it was published (above), even more to my surprise I have received via my clever postman, several letters with my shortened address as it appeared in the paper. Other poor souls it would seem have also suffered from sub standard holiday cottages, and could I give them information about our own. So on one side it would appear there are grounds for such complaints, but I do also feel there must be dozens such as I who provide tip top cottages. What to do? The company I advertise through, as well as my previous company, carries out stringent checks on their owners’ properties every year. I would not be recruited as an owner should I fail on any point. The Tourist Board owner/advertisers I believe are similarly checked. Not every self- catering cottage owner uses such companies, preferring to market their own properties. It is these that perhaps should provide enquirers with references from previous renters. I also think that low rental prices could perhaps be a warning, afterall that old adage "you pay your money and you take your choice" could prove very true.

Right enough moaning, many of my visitors return again and again so I thank you all and appreciate your faith in Mor Carraig.

It is a couple of weeks since returning from my last visit to our cottage, my girls think I disappeared north to escape the chaos in my house in Essex, we are having new bathroom suites put in. The banging and crashing was upsetting Hamish, a Boxer of nervous disposition, and the plaster dust and mess a nightmare. Therefore Rod, Hamish and I decided we were ‘needed’ to keep an eye on some work we were having carried out on the roof of Mor Carraig before the winter sets in. Our dear neighbours and friends were already holidaying there, and we were to join them on the Friday for dinner and a blether before they travelled home on Saturday. A trouble free journey saw us arrive in time for a glass or two of champagne, thoughtfully chilled by Robert and Irene, before we changed and spent the evening at Woodwards Restaurant which is in Castle Street, just opposite the entrance to Inverness Castle. The menu encompasses most things Scottish and local produce is used if possible, it is a favourite of ours. Trying to fight for air space as we were all talking at once, a couple of bottles of wine were required to lubricate our parched throats, followed by the sticky toffee pudding which is to die for!

The next day we had time for the four of us to shop in Inverness, before the Munro’s afternoon flight. We particularly enjoy a wander round Leakeys in Church Street, who sell wonderful second hand books and prints. Situated in an old church that has a huge wood burning stove for the winter, it is a great place to thaw out and it has now opened a restaurant area serving great home made soups and cakes. These we had to sample so I could provide information for my readers and visitors. The things I do for you chaps! I am happy to report that lunch was delicious and a definite recommendation for you all. We added a couple of Scottish books for our bookcase in Mor Carraig, so you see I do have your best interests at heart!

After our goodbyes we laid in supplies for the week and headed back for a lazy evening of television, and catching up on reading my visitors book, I have just bought a new one, so we are now on volume two.

George MacRae was arriving to begin overhauling our roof on Monday, nothing major, just repairing some broken slates and leading, and relaying those around the bathroom dormer window that rattle a bit in the wind. George the Roof, is a most polite and respectful Scot, and very reliable, but he is also very softly spoken. I pride myself on coming to Scotland all these years that I can cope with and understand most Scottish accents, but with George I admit defeat. " Mutter mutter mutter whnn upmm fhtnn hmmmn Mrs MacDonald," leaves me smiling and nodding vigorously and hoping I should be nodding and smiling, even if he has just told me the price has gone up. However he is such a good worker and so genuine, I am sure it doesn’t matter that I miss most of his conversation, at least I hope it doesn’t……….

As usual I had lost Rod to the steadings greater charms. I keep threatening to get him a kettle and an armchair down there, then he never has to come in. He seems to get creative in the steading coming up with little gadgets fashioned out of not a lot, that will mend well anything I want mended. If there’s no gadget on the go then the quad bike comes out. The quad bike you understand was a Christmas present a couple of years ago for Clare and Faye, they know it is theirs, but Rod also thinks it is his. You have heard of Fathers buying their sons trains sets which are really for them, well it works the same with quad bikes. I have patiently waited for almost two years for someone to show me how to ride one, and I am still waiting!

The week was moving on, George the Roof was working away on, you’ve guessed it, the roof, and the moles were working equally hard digging up our lawn. Why when we have over four acres of meadow, do they take a liking for my lawn, as fast as we remove the mounds of earth pushed up, by the morning there are always more. They are obviously highly intelligent moles as they always dig around the traps, and have been known to put their head above the parapet with Hamish sitting nearby. Not that he would do anything, being a bit of a chilled out Boxer. So now I have invested in one of those sonic thingys, it was in one of those little booklets free in magazines that are full of gadgets that you feel you can’t live without. Rod needless to say loves them! This time, for a change it was me sending away for something. It is a peg you drive into the soil and it is supposed to send out sonic waves that repel ‘critters’ including I hope, my moles. The girls think I have fallen for an advertising gimmick, (who me?) but I WILL prove them wrong. I have yet to try it as it has just arrived, but I’ll take it up next time, and soon my lawn will be mole free. Won’t it?

Now you may be wondering why I haven’t mentioned Davey, we hadn’t seen him all week, and frankly I was worried. Investigation tracked him down decorating his daughters’ house, but he promised to join us on our last evening along with our neighbour Roddy MacDonald (yes there is another one) his fiancé Rhona and his Uncle Ian. We decided we would have a takeaway and a wee dram or two. My Rod is now called Roddy London by the locals, which doesn’t upset him as much as before when he was Old Roddy as opposed to Young Roddy, men are so touchy about their ages! We women aren’t, are we? Young Roddy and Rhona are getting married on the 17^th November and we are delighted to have been invited to the wedding. It will be kilts, bagpipes, and all traditions Scottish. Rhona and Roddy are walking back down the aisle to my favourite, ‘Highland Cathedral’, so I will be in floods of tears and make sure I have plenty of tissues ready. Anyway back to Friday evening which with a log fire, full stomachs, and a few drams, was a highly successful evening. I stuck to wine and Rods drams were greatly watered down, so the others were more ‘relaxed’ than we were. Uncle Ian comes from Stornaway, and he is a great recanter of his life there with young Roddys’ father, Charles. He had us in fits with some of his tales and a great evening was had by all, not sure about the next morning though!

We had decided to travel back late evening when the traffic is lighter, so we tidied and cleaned and prepared for our next visitors, all of October is booked mainly by returnees, and then that is the end of our season. Angie my treasured housekeeper had looked in earlier that week, with Howard her husband. He now has a huge flock of 45 sheep in our field, after starting just a couple of years ago with under a dozen. We love to see the sheep in situ, makes you feel quite like ‘old MacDonald had a farm’. If we were in residence permanently (one day we hope) we would have Highland cattle and I would just love a donkey. I have stuffed toy ones, but a real one would be nice. We re-laid the fire and locked up, we would be back in November for the wedding, I can’t wait…………