grumpy gluten

It had to happen eventually but, after two summers of volunteers, C finally got so grumpy that he scared a couple off after just 48 hours.  It was the result of our policy of accepting any volunteers who are organised enough to get to our far-flung rural corner: I could see that an American couple interested in "authentic experiences" and "permaculture" were always going to be an awkward fit.  I hate to agree with Frankie Boyle but he does have a point when he says the ironic thing about people with emotional intelligence is that they don't realise everyone hates them.  In this case the couple didn't realise that C's grumpiness was an inevitable and authentic reaction to their book-learning preachiness.  It was the young lady's description of her aversion to wheat that finally did it.  Gosh they were dim.

Because our cottage is dead lovely, they were replaced pronto with a sweet young German lady who turned out to be volunteering nearby on Lismore and was able to come a wee bit early.  She's done a grand job with all sorts of stuff, cooked cakes and kept C company.

The authentic volunteers did at least provide a baseline measure for people who aren't suited to west coast life but the other who've visited this year have ranged from gently incompetent Americans to stern cheese-loving Germans including the Catalonian couple who provided the picture above.  They've all provided an opportunity for C and I to practise our referendum rants.  We've got a copy of the SNP's manifesto/white paper on the mantelpiece and we did a decent double-act of reasons why independence would be a rubbish idea.

After a civilised bit of voting (free sweets and a nice chat with the polling clerks) and excellent lunch in the White House I woke up spontaneously at 3am as the votes came in and stayed up 'til Glasgow at 5am when the writing was on the wall.  I was driving south the next day and I'd been prepared for scenes of devastation akin to 'The Road' but I felt the waves of relief rising as the day went on.  Until I got to Glasgow where the old enemies were rioting in George Square.  And so it continues.