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Wednesday 4 March 2020

Let me tell you...

a story.
A long time ago when I lived a self sufficient life on the North West coast of Scotland.
I developed psittacosis.  Yes, parrots disease!  Some who have followed my exploits for a while might not be surprised?  The surprise is where did I pick it up, living as I did ten miles from the nearest village, let alone the nearest flaming parrot?

It all started when one snowy morning I was driving to Inverness 101.6 miles away.  The start of the journey wasn’t the greatest.  My plan was to drive into Lochinver to get petrol.  Driving down into the village the snowplough was slowly coming up the hill.  The car started to skid on the ice, and as if in slow motion I was heading for the blade on the front.  As luck would have it my cool head was on that morning, thankfully I managed not to oversteer and we passed with just a whiskers breath between!

As the journey got underway it was obvious the snow was becoming more of a problem?  Blizzard, whiteout conditions. You realise pretty quickly how important the snow poles are at the side of the road!
Then to add to the problem the alternator started playing up.  It was decided we should call into a garage in Ullapool about halfway there to see what could be done.  Nothing as it turned out!  A new one would have to be ordered.  The advice was to turn round and drive  home with the strict instructions to keep the use of the windscreen wipers to a minimum in order to get us home before the wipers completely killed the alternator.
Well you can imagine the drive I had, the weather was deteriorating, the snow falling thicker and faster.  How I got us home to this day I will never know?  The joys of being the only driver, the man of the moment couldn’t drive, had never learnt!?!
As I parked the car I struggled in exhausted.  The strain of the day I assumed?  I started to cough that was the start of me being confined to bed for six weeks...
to be continued...

6 comments:

  1. OK. Sounds like it will be good. In the meantime, that is a nice stone fence.

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    1. Well not from my point of view obviously. And out of the picture on the righthand side there used to be a byre made of stone where the goat and chickens lived, On my return last year it had gone. When I enquired as to why, my neighbours said the stone was sold!

      LX

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  2. The plot thickens!
    That's a lovely wee hoose!! And a beautiful setting

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    1. Yes, trouble is we have a visitor coming to stay tomorrow so I have had to reacquaint myself with the polish and dusters... if I can find them? The next instalment will have to wait until the cottage and garden room are clean.

      LX

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  3. Goodness, I take a few days off (3 day migraine & sickness) and find that you have been dashing off reams of interesting reads, all in your inimitable style! I hope you can see my deep and very elegant curtsy, Ma'am...beginning to wobble a bit now...

    The source of your Psittacosis? I can see the sea behind the cottage, could it be something along the lines of Whisky Galore, Long John Silver and Captain Flint?

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    Replies
    1. This is what happens when you take your eye off the ball Elaine. Hopefully you are feeling better now? Migraine and sickness go hand in hand, you have my sympathy, mine attacks have now gone to pastures new, an age thing, maybe? Good to have you back.

      Parrot and a peg leg?

      My visitor goes today so I will continue the sorry tale.

      LX

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