Jura Gardens

Here; since we were on the island of Jura in the Inner Hebrides near Scotland, we shufftied along to the gardens at Jura House.

I don't like gardens to visit. They bore me but my dear partner loves them, so we went. The moment I left the car and trotted through the wooden gate into the wood on a path that leads to the gardens I was hooked. Wild garlic and bluebells everywhere. Dappled light with a enveloping aroma. I felt I was in paradise. And the gardens were lovely too.

I snapped hither and thither. Mostly thither. This was thither.

Boiden

Just up the road and to the left past the white house stands three former paupers cottages. That little-looking one in the middle is lovely inside. And its big. Big enough anyway. Sleeps loads, has all the facilities one needs, has a view to die for and the sun shines all the time there.

sojurn

Apologies for the little gap in proceedings but have been taking a short break on the Isle of Jura. And I took some snaps to prove it. When I get in the darkroom..........

Stefan

We have nice neighbours. Stefan isn't one of them. I mean, he is lovely - as are the whole family and Ghriet the barking fog - but they are not really neighbours merely they live in the same village. At least 5 mins walk away. That's not neighbours is it?

We had a nice invite over to Mr Windy and Deane's [NOT Mrs Windy I'm told] place in big smoke and the Smits , of which Stefan is one, came too. He's just checking the Tory Manifesto !!!!!!! Actually, he's looking at one of Mr Windy's new books - a photo book by Don Macullen. Brilliant.

Three wheels on my wagon

However you look at it, I don't this Reliant has been rolling along for quite a while. It is however, slowly being consumed into the jungle that is taking over this part of Stornoway. Urban living eh?

Gutted!

Tolsta from a peat track. [and a little grain]

'Wall of tins'; Homage to Toots by way of Fags, Mags and Bags

"Hold the sheet higher please" I wailed. The staff did too. And the shot was made. All part of my homage to Toots montage that will eventually find it way out of the darkroom - when I find a moment to go in that is.

Only the grain isn't there is it? Where is it? I used some awful 400 film too, stuff I'd stored away for such a purpose. I rated it at 800 and sloshed it in Rodinal shaking the tank like a banshee. I should by right be able to count the grain. But its a mere shadow of real grain. Its not even ex-grain.

Back to the drawing board I think

Now colour!

The film was lurking. Getting older by the moment so I shot it.

The tulip had already lurked. Now it lay. I shot it.

I've lost it

They were giving me such a hard time but I made out I didn't care. I had to. Face and all that. The nice man was leading through the process and he inspired me. I felt like I was doing something - making some thing new and original. The first time I have done that too.

I drove home smiling to myself, the image safely tucked up on the seat beside me. Snuggled between sheets of tissue paper. The image sitting upon Somerset paper.

I'm thrilled. But I do care.

Look at it. I mean, just look at it. Can you see him? He works out Marybank way.

Dane

He was waiting at the turning to Tolsta from Laxdale. Looking tanned and fit, big green bag on his back and a smile lurking. "Are you going to Tolsta?" he asked through the open window of my car. Of course I was; didn't he realise I was going home? Why else would I be going that way? Eh? For goodness sake!

He loaded his bag in the back and jumped in. From Jutland it seems - here to enjoy our fine weather - the same sort of weather he gets at home - cold, wind and rain. He camped on the machair and survived the night in his little tent.

I walked on Garry beach and took a snap - or two. Like I do. Here's one;

Fruitless in Tolsta

An old snap from England.

I'm strolling through the village minding my own business and trying not to catch anyone's eye since they are bound to ask why I'm not out on the peats - again! Its trying to snow again. I've been out and dug some peats and I'm going again soon - just as soon as my tired old body will allow me.

So I troll into the Community Shop. Before picking up the papers - one for us and one for a chap o'er t'road - I notice that the Jammy Dodgers are altogether more fruity. The packaging definitely says "More fruity taste". It shouts it. big red lettering an all. Now I'm hooked and make a purchase [only don't tell Eve since they've all gone]. The only thing is, they are not at all fruity. All the fruitiness is on the packaging and little made it inside. I tried them all and all were the same. A singular lack of fruitiness I think. More Dodgy than jammy in fact. I'm shocked.

bac on

After a slight hiatus, I seem to bac online with a little bit of positive vibes from Josh misted over the machine. No idea what happened!

Before you vote

Listen to this. Please. At least the first part by David Harvey

Then watch this short piece. Please. NOW!

Tenting

Ere look, we've bin away like. Just down the road at Reef, hanging on for dear life as the wind and rain came in off the Atlantic and freezing us in the process. Still, twas lovely since we got to do some nice walking in the Monday sunshine.

Reef's quite lovely out there on the Bhaltos peninsula and the campsite can't be much nearer a white sandy beach and clear blue yet cold sea.

We're back now, warming our toes in front of the fire and wondering if Haggas actually sold two jackets to The Doctor since he lost one this week.

On the election front; today I actually heard a discussion on the radio about the real things we should be thinking about in this election - the fact that consumer capitalism is unsustainable. And no, none of the local candidates are interested. None. I shall be voting Lib Dem in the vain hope that the undemocratic election system might be changed and we can vote the Greens into parliament.

Listen to this NOW!