Starting point at Tontearie Farm, a few miles from Nethybridge .

Setting out up over the hill towards Glenmore.
A stop at Lochan Uaine (The Green Loch) for a drink and a picnic lunch.

Pausing at Ryvoan Bothy.
The track from Glenmore Lodge back towards Nethybridge.

Julie on Cherry (skewbald pony), me on Peggy (2nd. left.) and some other members of the club.
Almost the end of the ride.

My Little CC Winner!

Swallow. BCC at LKA 2008.

this photo, much better than mine, is by Elizabeth Patrick.

The Xmas Bus.

Many of we Toy dog exhibitors from east Scotland (and some from much farther north) travel to the Championship shows down south by private coach (or bus, as we call it) and, of all the trips, the one to the Ladies Kennel Association Championship Show (LKA) held in the NEC at Birmingham counts as one of the favourites as we always have a Christmas party on board, with heaps of food and drink (mainly soft, and wine) a lucky dip and a raffle and the inside of the coach seasonally decorated to get us in the mood.
This year we had just left the Forth Road Bridge car park, our starting point, when it was evident something was amiss with the vehicle. We were being thrown up out of our seats and it felt as though the wheels were square. There was no way my stomach would have survived many miles, never mind the distance to Birmingham, to say nothing of the discomfort to the dogs aboard. The driver was forced to stop at the first available services and summon a replacement coach. Luckily, we were reasonably close to the depot and after a wait of about 3/4 of an hour we were ready to transfer all belongings to the new coach and resume the journey.
It was raining steadily on arrival at the showground so it was a long trudge through streams and puddles till we reached the warmth of the buildings. Thank goodness we hadn't already changed into our showing gear!
I was showing my own Swallow and her litter sister, Emma, (Meerwings A Butterfly Story), still owned by her breeder and my friend, Carole Paul, and, although both bitches have been very successful in the showring so far, it is never a sure thing they will be placed. Luck was smiling on us as both won their classes and Swallow went on to win her 1st. CC. Emma already has a Reserve ticket from a previous show.
Incidentally, I had left my own drinking water on the bus and went to buy a bottle at the show. "That will be £1.60", said the salesgirl and I said, "Well, you can keep it". That is what I call daylight robbery for something I can buy at home for under 40 pence, and made do with the remains of the water from Carole's dog bottle!
The party started after we were reloaded into the bus, and we were ready for a sleep after consuming vast amounts of sausage rolls, chicken bits, cocktail sausages, crisps, savoury eggs. clootie dumpling, Christmas cake, Stollen, chocolate things and many others along with an appropriate amount of beverage.
We reached the car park at the Bridge just after 12.30am Sunday morning and it was eventually almost 2am by the time I fell into bed.
It had been a great day!

The partially loaded boot of the bus at 10.30pm on Friday about to leave for the show.

Inside the bus before we leave from The Forth Road Bridge car park.

I
Almost into the sleeping position.

A view of the ring during judging.
The judge, Mr R McKay (Corralyn) at the table.

Swallow,(Meerwings The Swallow Tale by Pyatshaw), who had won Best Bitch.
The drink and tray of savouries.

The food laid out on the dog boxes.
A Santa papillon exhibitor.
One happy party-goer!

Northern Exposure!

For nearly 14 years we lived in Inverness-shire, in the Highlands and there we experienced more severe frost than we have in any of the other places we have lived. Home was a big , very old farmhouse, reputed to be haunted by the Redcoat cavalry searching for Bonnie Prince Charlie (who else !!!!), although we never saw any signs of it....or him either! There was no central heating and most winters the water pipes froze and when I think back, it was a bit parky but then we just piled on the woolie jumpers.........and, the children actually all survived!!!
One particular morning it was very, very quiet and still when we woke up (not that there was ever much noise there) and when we looked out everything was covered with almost 3 feet of snow, much more than we had ever remembered, except for March 1947.
All the shovels were over at the steading so all we had to clear a path from the door was the little house version. Schools were closed as all roads were blocked and eventually supplies had to be dropped by helicopter to the village shops. These became so common-place that the children even stopped shouting, "look, a helicopter!" Essential supplies were fetched from the village by horseback.
After about a fortnight the roads were cleared and you can just about make out, on one of the following photographs, the depth of snow on some parts of the road to Inverness.
We have had quite a lot of snow some years later when we lived in East Lothian and always living out in the "sticks" we would be cut off for several days but it was part of life and we were usually fairly well prepared.
For a few years now the winters have been reasonably mild with just the odd day or two of hard frost and the occasional snowfall.
Maybe there is something in this global warming.

our farmhouse near Nethybridge in Inverness-shire (in summer)

Grantown on Spey High Street in the 1970s

car coming through the cleared road.

(polaroid photo)

trails in the virgin snow with Laika, the samoyed.

ice on the fast flowing River Nethy

on the banks of the partly frozen River Nethy

our ponies looking for food

Leave it to the experts.

This year I thought I'd have a go at making my own Christmas cards. I had some seasonal photos and with the help of "Picasa" and related tools this would be a "cinch"! Ready creased, fold-over card was purchased from the stationers and I was ready to go. My friends would no longer have duplicate cards: none of these cheapo little things from Tesco etc.
Disaster followed disaster in the printworks. The photos came out facing the wrong edge and the wording on the inside was upside down. In future I'll leave all this sort of stuff to the experts and go back to buying a big box of assorted cards at the supermarket. The last straw came just as I had managed to print about 6 cards of dubious quality, but all of them unique. Up on the screen came the message, "The coloured ink cartridge is out of ink". I give up, give in and will retire gracefully to the shop, it's much cheaper.

Chalk and Cheese.

This must be the last "double" dog showing weekend for a while. The Saturday show was held in what must be the coldest venue in UK. What with that plus the fact that about half of the parking has disappeared due to the excavation and construction of a swimming pool, I keep saying, " That's the last time I go there" and yet, there I was again. I left home really early to travel the 40+ miles to make sure of a decent parking place but arrived to find that almost everyone else had done the same! It was worth it though as Mo came away with Best of Breed.
The Sunday show was slightly different in that I was judging the Toys and Terriers. It was a Limit show and the entry wasn't huge but the venue, a new one for the Scottish dog scene, was a warm, clean, fairly newly built sports centre with adequate parking. Just as well though I had done a reconnoitre to find the place in the preceding week as the start of judging was held back for a short time to allow the "lost souls" to make their way there.
I stayed to see the Best in Show, which went to a Bearded Collie and was delighted to see that my Best Terrier, a West Highland White, was awarded Reserve Best in Show.

Bring in the Professionals.

My other forays into the realms of winter sports ended in little disasters for me.
I had always envied one of my cousins her prowess on ice skates and how I coveted her white boots. After a lengthy spell of hard frost, the loch and surrounding wetlands had frozen over with thick enough ice to bear a person's weight. This cousin gave me a pair of old skates, albeit brown skates and half a size too small, but I squeezed my feet into them and took to the ice on the shallow boggy land near the pier. There were a good few cotton grasses sticking up through the ice and that didn't make my practice any easier, but after a while I could manage a yard or two without falling over. I then took to going to the ice rink on Saturday mornings for more practice. An aunt had a short skating skirt made for me. I loved it: navy material with a scarlet lining which looked pretty when I managed a little twirl. One Saturday a crowd of us were skating around the rink when I hit an ice lolly stick, carelessly dropped on the ice. I tripped into a preceding skater who lurched forward, his skate came up, the blade hit my leg and I could see into a gaping gash on my thigh. This ended with a visit to hospital and several stitches. I still bear the scar.
The ski-ing ended up much the same way: no cuts this time but a heavy, hip-joint wrenching, plaster up to the knee.
Jack and I had been given a set of skis between us and a pair of boots each. We set about teaching ourselves on the perfect snow on the steep field. Gaining a little confidence I set off, gaining a bit of speed and attempting a few twists and turns. That was my undoing. I got on to the wrong edge of the ski and immediately fell over, twisted my foot,or my leg, or both, the boot was detached from the ski, the ski shot off downhill and I was left in a heap. Nothing very spectacular but I could not walk and had to be taken home on the back of the tractor trailer.
Next day it was another "casualty" visit as my ankle had swelled up and was pretty painful. I had done something to ligaments or tendons, I forget which, and thus the plaster for 3 weeks.
The moral would seem to be, "Get professional training". Dog showing seems a bit safer.

Sieze the moment!

Despite dire warnings of impending snowstorms from the TV weather forecasters...........nothing much happened here! I rushed to the window, on waking, but all I saw were foggy hills, melting snow and icy pavements as the frost came out of the concrete and tarmacadam. I believe some places did get the snow...................but not here! In Britain we should never be surprised by these sudden, local changes in weather, it happens all the time, but we are! No wonder the weather is always a topic of conversation.
Yesterday I braved the frost and a little snow to climb up the Law to take some photographs. Just as well I did!

looking south

Looking north-east over Abernethy

looking north-west

.....and Holly came too.......

A winter pastime.

Frost after some snow--ideal conditions for sledging--and just what we needed for our homemade sledges of our youth. The first one I can remember, made by father, had irons, from the base of an old bed, for runners, hence the need for crisp snow, as they were so narrow, and a plank of wood, somehow attached for the seating area! It must have been at least 4 feet long and sat 3 of us quite easily. It was the envy of the rest of the farm kids.
Later models we made ourselves, with old fence posts as runners and short pieces of plank nailed across for sitting on. There was no real attempt to check that the posts were parallel and we often ended up with a snowplough rather than something that shot downhill. Sometimes, though, we did get it right and spent many hours out in the snow. We would lie on our stomachs and steering was by trailing the appropriate foot. The chosen run was in the field called, strangely enough, "the steep field" and was about 250 yards from top to bottom. Unfortunately there was no flat area at the bottom on which to gradually come to a halt. You either hit the dyke or baled out beforehand.
As my brothers grew older they changed the models. One type in particular had a large wooden box and this was to be a sort of cabin, in which we would sit and charge downhill, we fondly thought, the prototype of many, maybe we could even patent the design.
It weighed a ton and after we had struggled up to the field we couldn't get it through the fence. That was a complete failure. Bang went our fortune!
Elder brother had learned how to weld, so he fashioned a new model from lengths of old dairy piping welded together. Depending on your leg length you chose the appropriate bar to sit on. This model actually worked quite well, except for the fact that your backside collected snow all the way down the run. It was perfected by attaching some old sacks along its length.
The worst accident I can remember occurred when there was a very thin layer of snow but there had been severe frost. The sledging was going well. My cousin and younger brother sat astride my back as I lay on the sledge and we pushed off, gaining speed, due to the weight. Alas, the runner hit a large frozen cowpat protruding through the snow, the sledge stopped but we continued downhill at a fair speed, with my hands trapped underneath me. When we finally came to a halt all the skin had been scraped off one side of my face by the frosted snow. We went home, I was patched up by mother, with vaseline and a thin headsquare to cover the tender area, and back uphill we went. We couldn't afford to waste good sledging conditions!

Some snowy pictures.

I was right! We did have some snow overnight and a heavy shower in the forenoon, but it hasn't amounted to much and now the frost is back, so some chilly weather to come.

looking north in late afternoon

George cuts the garden strings!

It was only 3pm when I took Spencer, Tass, Mo and...............George, out this afternoon, but already the light was fading as we climbed up the glen path. This was George's first real outing beyond the garden and he behaved impeccably. He did lift his feet gingerly when he first encountered the heavily frosted grass but, apart from that, he scooted about with the others and came back when called.
I had taken 3 bitches, Holly, Tina and Swallow down part of the Cordon walk but the frost had gone down here, from where the sun had touched, but only from the surface, as I could still walk on the ice.
I have a feeling we might be in for some snow before long. Will I be proved correct?....we'll see.

George at 5 months. Photo by Sue Gray

(looking vaguely terrier-like about the tail!)