From Getaway Days to the Everyday
A few weeks ago I was lying in the hammock in the warmth of the sunshine and having an absolutely blissful moment, listening to the birds singing, the swallows were swooping overhead, the fluffy seeds of the willows were drifting in the breeze and the view of the glen and hill behind the house was stunning … but something was stopping it from being absolutely perfect. A tiny knot of something like anxiety was disturbing the heavenly vibe of a glorious summer day surrounded by the peace and tranquility I chased all the way to Glendaruel. I confessed to H that I was finding the hiatus in my utopia quite difficult and he said he would come up to see me for a week.
A week before, whilst in Wales, he said there just happened to be a concert on in Edinburgh that he fancied going to while he was with me in Scotland - a country artist called Zach Bryan. So we managed to pick up a couple of last minute tickets for Murrayfield for the Sunday night concert.
So on Sunday I picked him up from the airport again and we headed straight over to Edinburgh. Amazingly, we snagged a free parking spot in town and walked, along with hundreds of other country fans (given away by the cowboy boots and Stetsons) the two miles to the stadium. It’s not a huge venue - 70,000 people, and our seats were high with a decent view. There were a couple of warm acts (one good and one not so much) and then Zach came out with his band - all wearing kilts. There were bagpipes, high energy songs, a couple of nice ballads and EVERYBODY knew all the words (including one woman behind us who tunelessly yelled every song). It was a brilliant atmosphere and the night ended with pyrotechnics off the stadium roof. It was still light as we left and we drove back to the glen, arriving back at about 2am.
Monday was spent in the garden. I mowed the lawn while H got the strimmer going and sorted out all the edges. Just as I was almost finished, damp with sweat and knackered, H told me that if I used the lever on the mower handle it would drive the wheels for me too!! Well, I think that might just change my life… I can’t believe I never knew. He thought that was ridiculously funny. H tried and failed to fix the leaf blower while I made lunch. The garden looked great after that and we felt we had earned a drink and a lie down on the hammock in the sunshine - absolute heaven!
We had a bit of fun that evening and the next trying to relive our childhoods through desserts. We made Angel Delight with digestive biscuits underneath and sprinkles and Smarties on top, which was not nearly as nice as I remembered, and then I tried one of his favourites - Jaffa cakes and custard - chocolate, cake, orange and custard - what's not to like!
Tuesday morning we walked down the glen to Lover’s walk and did the short loop alongside the waterfall and back up the road, stopping along the way to show H the Campbell clan mausoleum in the middle of one of the sheep fields. I had work in the afternoon and when I got home H had organized and tidied up the garage.
On Wednesday morning I had a dentist appointment in Dunoon so I thought we could explore round there a bit too. H made some work calls while I saw the dentist and hygienist and then we went to the Boat House cafe for ‘second breakfast’ - this is becoming a tradition now - H had the full Scottish and I had the mini. It was almost lunch time so I didn’t feel bad about that. Then we drove round the coast to Toward and walked the short walk up to the castle ruin and sat in the sunshine and enjoyed the early afternoon peace of the spot. It’s tucked away from the main road in the grounds of a private house, surrounded by trees and bracken and feels very hidden. Then it was home, but on the way we called in at Toward lighthouse and St Modan carved stones (somewhere in a previous post!) Once home I tried cooking haggis properly for the first time by making Balmoral chicken - chicken breast stuffed with haggis and wrapped in bacon. As a favourite of H’s I shall have to expand my haggis recipe repertoire. It was pretty darn good and I think I’m now a haggis convert…
Thursday was a completely free day as I’d booked it off work, and H wanted to go to Bute. I’ve been a few times and I thought I’d seen it all. And yet we found three lovely new things to do. Of course I had to show H the Victorian toilets as this is the best thing in Rothesay! He was suitably impressed. Then we found a nice little cafe for lunch, which was lovely. Over lunch we discussed a plan to buy the island off the west coast of Bute, that was currently on the market for £1.4 million, called Inchmarnock. We devised an entire business plan which involves breeding lop eared rabbits for a petting zoo, hunting, pies and making sporrans, a brand name, logo and the decision to make it its own country with immigration, toll tax and currency. Completely hypothetical of course but very funny.
I spotted on Google Maps a garden with Victorian fernery, which was beautiful. Ascog Hall Fernery was constructed circa 1870 then lost somehow and then found and restored in 1997. Even Historic Scotland and the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh got involved, giving their assistance and expertise. It also contains the oldest living fern in the UK - a massive 1000 year old King fern.
We carried on round the coast to a short walk up to the ruined monastery but it was raining so we continued on, taking an unexpected detour to search for a way to reach a tiny spit of land that looked like it got cut off at high tide. It also had a perfect view over our future island purchase... H said if sunlight hit the island it was a sign we should buy it. But the sun was not coming out - I guess I don’t have to buy any lottery tickets just now. We walked along the pebble beach of St Ninian’s Bay to the spit of land as there was no road, had a look at the two little cottages there plus the two sets of ruins that are mentioned on the nearby info board.
St Ninan's Chapel is a fine example of the type of small religious sites constructed during the early expansion of Christianity into Scotland from the 5th century AD onwards. The small rectangular building is surrounded by a large enclosure wall, the remains of which can still be traced. Excavations in the early 1950's, identified an earlier burial site underneath the church, as well as the alter at the east end.
The smoke house, also known as the "White House", is the remains of a small 19th Century fishing Cottage. The cottage is two roomed and has a platform at one end which may have been used to load carts. A small pier, now ruined, can also be seen near the building. Some
evidence suggests the structure may have been altered for fish-curing. Herring fishing at Loch Fyne formed a vital part of the economy between 18th and early 20th Century.
We also found two holes in the ground, with steps leading down, but filled with water. I’ve seen holy wells that look very similar but having two doesn’t make sense. These were not on the info board so I am curious to know what they're all about.
We sat and looked across to Inchmarnock island. Apparently it is rich in archaeological remains from the prehistoric period onwards. Most notable is the site of the St Marnock's Chapel. Carved stones and an early Christian monastic settlement, possibly dedicated to instruction in writing and literacy have been found along with ancient gaming pieces, writing tablets, craft products and 'the hostage stone' - a piece of slate depicting a shackled figure being led off to a waiting boat by a group of long-haired, mail-suited warriors with weapons. Artefacts from the island can be seen at Bute Museum. The island was used for military training during the war and when reoccupied afterwards considerable care had to be taken due to the unspent ammunition in the ground. The Inch is also host to a breeding seal colony. So there is fabulous history there, but the spoils have been plundered over the years!
On the walk back along the bay we passed standing stones and the largest salt marsh on Bute, with a wide range of plants characteristic of this habitat providing both feeding and breeding areas for wading birds and gulls.
Friday I was in work all day from 8.30am until 5pm, which gave H enough time to clear space in the garage for a 'home gym' - a corner for the free-weights which had been stacked under the workbench for the last three years. I am enjoying the way he is slowly claiming the man spaces as his own - it is nice to see them being used and appreciated again, to have someone who understands my dogged drive for independence but lets me know that I don't HAVE to do it all on my own anymore, and the fact that it means he intends to keep coming back to make use of the new home gym (and see me!) I made haggis and tatties for tea and winged it on a whiskey sauce made with cream cheese instead of cream and it turned out blooming good again!
Saturday was the Argyll rally - a day I dread and endure. The road was closed at about 8.30am and we are trapped in our houses then until it reopens at about 6pm, with cars whizzing by at 60-80 mph every couple of minutes for several hours. For a while it wasn't too bad, and we got the barbecue out and invited Dave and Heather round for lunch, which was lovely. We cooked McVicar's local farm sausages and lorne plus some chicken, and I'd made salad and potato salad and got buns in to make burgers. We had some peace and quiet over the lunch break and then D&H went home and we got the biscuits out and H had a snooze against my shoulder until I couldn't bear the noise of the cars any longer and went inside to pack my bag for my week away down south and tidy up the house before setting off the next day. Once we were released from purgatory we went down to The Colintraive for dinner as I'd run out of food to cook!
Saturday morning I popped out to feed the birds and as I walked round the end of the house saw, with horror, that the house martin's nest on the gable end had fallen down, and in the ruins of the nest was a tiny, struggling chick. I picked it up, took it indoors and got some soaked mealworms to try and revive it, but as I held one up to it's beak it tookitss last breath and was gone. I was so sad for a good few minutes, although I knew really that it was hopeless. Poor little guy. I found it's sibling nearby, also already too late.
The drive back is always long but we chatted and listened to music which makes it go much quicker, and H did the driving. His dad picked him up at the rendezvous and gave me a nice, tight hug again. I like that he seems happy to see me!
And here are my musings on how things are going…
There is a teeny tiny hang up that I need to address in my own mind. In the week running up to H’s visit I kept finding myself in tears, and it didn’t stop when H arrived. There were three occasions when I found myself relaxing into H’s arms and being overwhelmed by the niggle that everything is just a bit too good, which would set me off again. I am incredibly happy with how things are going - I still almost can’t believe how lucky I am - and yet I find it is bringing back memories of the very darkest time with John - that last month that we were together, when he was so poorly I took on the role of nurse and saw him through his final weeks, and the pain of witnessing that month and of losing him comes flooding back. I am so afraid of having to wring myself out of every last drop of strength and resilience to do that again, and of the heartbreak that comes with it. But I think it’s broader than that - I’m afraid of losing another person I care very deeply for, and that now includes H. Part of me wants to tell him about that last month, so he can understand what I had to do and how it has affected me, and I know H would give me a tight cwtch and listen with care and empathy and say just the right thing. But I cannot, and should not try to, emancipate myself from the past and the pain at H’s expense. I don’t want him to feel it’s his job to save me or fix me although, whatever might happen, I think he already has. I think the difference for me is that now I’m going into a new relationship with my eyes wide open - I know the potential cost of giving yourself to another, and it is something I willingly and solemnly promise. I’m all in and I don’t know how to do it any other way - and what would be the point?! So, I need to focus on today and not worry about the future until we get there, and on all the little things that suggest we WILL get there… as long as I enjoy everything for what it is in the moment - a fun and exciting adventure into the unknown with an amazing guy that I'm enjoying getting to know.
And on a more fun note - H finally, with several clues, found the surprise I left at his place. A tiny note, scrawled on his mirror quickly while he wasn't looking that simply said LOVE YOU. A simple act that I have been overanalysing for weeks and broke the one promise I made to myself: that I would NOT go first. I did not want to pressure H into anything - rather let him go at his pace and keep things light and relaxed. But having spent some time wondering why I'd made that decision, I came to the conclusion that it meant I was waiting for him to decide that I was good enough, rather than telling him how I feel when I decided HE was good enough, and that felt wrong. Anyway, the answer? A message back saying 'I ❤️ U 2 x' Followed by 'How do you know?' and a series of other sweet messages which just confirmed why love him even more. So... it's official, and I am so excited I can't even put it into words, although I have tried...!
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