Bent Spoons

On a rip-roaring Saturday night, Spook and I were stymied when our internet provider would not provide Netflix.  At 9pm it seemed a bit early to turn in, even though we were already slumped by the fire in a state of sleepiness.  How has this happened???? (not the lack of internet - the lack of energy for a high jinx Saturday night.) I suggested we take a wander up the croft to check out Finn and his mate Aiden's igloo, which they had toiled over all afternoon with Meg 'cementing' in the gaps. We grabbed head torches, some candles and a small rug - it is a sad sign of the times that we didn't grab a wine bottle and some glasses, but there you have it.


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We were a wee bit lack-lustre as we trudged up the hill in the freezing temperatures, and planned a quick photo opportunity and then maybe a game of Snap back home.


This was all very well and impressive, but a wee glass of something would have added to the ambience.  At this sad realisation (about 5 minutes after we'd got the candles lit) Meg phoned to say that a couple of scary guys with a big stick had appeared at the door.  Thankfully it turned out to be The Big G and Mr B'Dass - neighbours, and the big stick was to inspire me in my much talked about stick-making efforts as Mr B'Dass won Best Stick at the Agricultural Show.  Meg provided them with croft-suitable footwear and pointed them up the hill where they were welcomed into the hold, especially as they brought copious amounts of whisky......and the big stick.  


That' s a prize-winner, right there!!

The Big G was clutching a bottle of Dutch whisky presented to him by a very kind Dutch man and worth a penny or two.  He was celebrating the on-set of his birthday - that's probably why we risked hypothermia in order to make it past midnight to reach his birthday at the other side.


Spook and The Big G discussed the possible merits of Dutch whisky while Mr B'Dass wielded a bottle of 12 year old Highland Park and the remains of a Glenlivet as he nostalgically remembered games of shinty played out in the village of the latter.


I helped out with the Highland Park which was my mother's favourite but got a row for taking such a 'girlie' sip.  I'm already wondering if there might be too many photo's of me slugging out of bottle's of whisky - girlie fashion or not.


We did get a bit excited about the Netherlands role in the igloo party and couldn't wait for a wee taste.  Smooth and caramelly, I thought - while I was still able to.  Mr B'Dass was full of nostalgia for the big win at the Agricultural Show and keen to see if he could retain the title.  After a few drams I was pretty sure I could give him a run for his money as the croft is full of hazel trees just waiting to be transformed.

But time nor tide waits for no man, and the hour approached when butts and feet were undeniably chilled, so a stagger down the croft and back to the warmth of the kitchen for a few tunes was the wisest move.  I'm not saying the transition happened very smoothly or without a couple of tumbles (that was just me,) but once the feeling had come back into our guests hands, we had The Big G on the mandolin and B'Dass on the spoons.  He did make a bit of a fuss about the quality of the spoons, but was able to ease them into the shapes required.  Unfortunately, the soup wont stay on them any longer but it was worth it for the performance.


Good sense finally prevailed and our visitors supported each other off home.  The Big G snuggled into bed with his sleepy wife who yelped "Where have you been?  The bloody North Pole?  "No" he replied "I've been in Mo and Spooks igloo."  Oh my god, she thought, how much of that Dutch whisky has he drunk??

Meanwhile I went back up the next day to make sure there was no evidence of shenanigans in our son's igloo.


Oh thank goodness.  He'll hardly even know we've been there........



I had to call in help and got Mrs B'Dass to call in on her way over the hill today to check that everything was back in order.