Mozzy's, Cozzy's and Bare Butts.

There were many manoeuvers in the dark in Correlejo last week. Meg bagged the bed she fancied most which turned out to be the squeekiest. After a departure time of 1am in Fort William to get to Fuerteventura, Spook fell asleep very quickly the next night and didn't hear Meg humphing the mattress to a new spot on the non-squeeky floor - right in his flight path to the toilet at 3am! So there was a bit of sqealing and swearing before things settled down, after he'd tripped over her in the dark, and nearly pee'd himself. 3 nights of suffering what had turned out to be a raw deal, saw her move into my bed, so I had to share the living room with Finn and chose a nice wee space next to the open patio door to catch the breeze. At some point in the middle of the night, someone wrenched open the front door scaring the beejeesus out of me. It turned out not to be an intruder, but Finn, heading off into the night. I yelled out to him and he reappeared very quickly, said "oh, sorry" and hopped back into bed. I was awoken again to find him bumping into the bottom of my mattress, trying to get out the patio door. He had no idea why he was trying to do that. I think too much free Pepsi on the all inclusive tab had taken it's toll on his ability to sleep without sleep-walking. Either that, or there was some beautiful teenager down at the bar that had taken his fancy.

The next night, Spook had the pleasure of the wee breeze in the living room, but Finn's capacity for sleep-walking was severly hampered by too much tossing and turning and he woke to find his feet tied in knots by the bedsheets. He had to get his dad to untangle him. Meanwhile, Meg was chatting away in her sleep, in my ear.

We finally got Finn to take up position on the mattress on the floor and somehow, all fell into place - except for one tiny wee mosquito (the only one on the island) buzzing around his head, which he assumed was carrying malaria and as he was pushing his mattress accross the room to avoid certain death, his sister thought he was trying to escape the room again and yelled at him to "GET THOSE SHOES OFF!". He got such a fright, he didn't know which was more scary - mozzy or Meg.

There was much nudity on the beach and it was fun to watch Finn running around trying to avoid bare boobs, change direction, find himself running towards a fully nude male striding confidently accross the sand, and swerve to get back safely to us, in our well covered bodies. Obvioulsy we had to protect ourselves from sunburn, but truly, the most embarrassing sight on the beach was us, trying to get in and out of our cozzy's, with towels wrapped strategically around private bits, squealing when the towel dropped a bit and some butt cheek was exposed. So very British.

A wee glimpse of Fuerteventura.

I will add a few words when I have more time.

A Life in the day of a 24hr Marshall.

Well - that's what I will call it when I tell it proper. Meanwhile, rest assured, it may not involve riding round and round the forest in long hours of darkness, but it does involve a certain amount of endurance. There was an early role reversal when I was gathering wood and sawing it up, when the competitors who found me still doing it on their 3rd lap, started to encourage me with shouts of "well done!" I found myself glowing in their praise until I remembered that I was meant to be encouraging THEM.

Thankfully my fellow campers turned up and took over along with a string of supportive visitors. Ted (spaniel)'s mistress brought a collection of Muriel Gray essays to spice up my stay in the forest and to make up for not getting my Sunday Herald. I haven't quite got them read Siobhan, but I will.

It was a very glorious weekend of weather, but as you can see from the photos, the sun shone all around our spot, but never on us. There was a cold wind blowin around us the whole time and it was a shock to come back to Nevis Range the next day to find summer temperatures. But we were warmed by our brazier and a non-stop selection of music from Bruce Springstein to Hooked on Classics. A wee dram or two of whiskly helped some of us to relax. We all managed a sleep through some of the night despite the noise, and everyone only woke up when I turned off the music and the generator, some time after sun rise (rising everywhere else in the forest obviously, but not on us.)

We are all really tired now (esp. Finn who spent the day out on the hills around Pitlochry today looking for a stag. He was amazed at how you searched a hillside the way you might search through your drawers, going over the same bits again and again, but covering bigger distances.)

We have to get up in under 2hrs to catch the plane to Fuerteventura where we will play bingo and take part in quizzes and talent shows and play water polo............photos will be taken.

Sierra Nevada - Monachil

I like Spook to be my eyes when he is away. I want tales of people and places that don't just involve bikes. One can have too many photo's of bikes!! So he has to paint a wee bit more of a picture for me.

It would appear that there are not lot's of 'dudes' in the village, and if there are any lovely dudesses, he has chosen not to portray them!

And there is certainly one gorgeous child called Luca, whose parents ran the best Tapas Bar in the village. Spooks iphone was the highlight of each evening when they went in to partake of some light refreshments.

Dangerous Flowers.

No photo's as Spook took the camera and the other one has run out of batteries. I think Meg and I have run out of batteries too.
We planned a clean up last night, but both of us carefully skirted around the subject until we safely could see that neither wanted to do it. It has been a long month of helping out at events, work, school and some extracurricular cleaning of caravans. So the best we managed was a wee tidy up of the surfaces, and not the full-on gutting that Meg has requested.
I decided the lilies had finally had it. They have filled the living room with their magnificent scent since The Big Weekend, and managed to make us look a bit posher. I took a wee sniff on the way out just to see if there was anything left worth wafting about, but it was gone.
I'd got the tea cooked and washing folded by the time I bumped into Meg again who looked at me with horror. "What on earth have you done to your face?" I knew I had done nothing to my face and was a bit offended at her inability to cope with my appearance. I looked in the mirror and noticed a shocking resemblance to what my son might look in a few years, and indeed, if the menopausal state really does continue in the way that has so far, I will look like too. I had a full ginger moustache!! It looked particularly gross as it had filled ever nook and cranny - nay crevice - on my upper lip. A wave of shock swept down to my toes as I thought I must have spent the entire day at work like this. Then I remembered the sniff of the lily. It was the pollen from the stamen.
Spook will be home for lunch today, and with the computer half on the blink, the back door light blown the minute he left, the wood pile getting low, the grass needing cut, and a couple of tricky items on the homework agenda, we will be more than pleased to see him. xx

Autumn NIght.

Our dear Spook has gone to Spain for a few days. I hope he has good weather as it has turned colder here these last 2 weeks. It seems no time since the girls were camping up at the top of the croft (well, until the food ran out, the darkness fell, and the midges made the going tough.)

Now, herself has moved onto the excitment of winter, as the light grows more dramatic and the nights draw in. She is cleaning the house and glueing and sticking, and cutting and glueing - creating decorations for the mid winter celebrations. The popular greeting of that time of year was sitting on the breakfast table the other morning, in lovely coloured, cardboard cut out letters. It looked good. Even I have had to curtail my humbug nature to enjoy her enthusiasm. By the time she had got herself organised to go to school, The Red Menace (as he is called at rugby), had quickly fashioned a few extra cardboard cutout letters and she came down to find the words Merry Asshole, assembled on the table. As I comforted my distraught and angelic child, while he grinned like a cheshire cat (they're ginger, right?) she was seen by her father to be making less than angelic gestures at him whilst wrapped around me. I couldn't help but admire his ability to overcome his dyslexia when it suited him.

So now Spook has gone, we are looking forward to an event-free week. There are plenty of work hours and household chores to keep us busy, but we are thinking it might be quieter without him for a wee while.

Carbo-loading.

Do they look guilty? Do they? That's because they are. Guilty and overwieght. We, on the other hand, are becoming skinnier by the minute. I say minute, rather than day, as that seems an appropriate rate.
It's been a hectic time. Meg has the main responsibility for looking after the boys and does a great job of feeding, walking and brushing them. It's not exactly relaxing as they are constantly kept in check and Finn and I are twitchy as commands of 'sit', 'stay', 'NO' are issued with alarming regularity and we have to be sure they are not for us. It has taken the pressure off US a bit, but there are still issues to be dealt with.
I made home made bread on Saturday, to go with the home made jam that no-one will eat. Finn says it's too sweet, Meg worries about caterillars, and Spook says there was no nice bread to eat it with. The bread looked beautiful, sitting on it's cooling rack, as I nipped out to take Meg to a friends house. Meanwhile, Spook called in and ate the left over pizza (also home made, as one half of a day off turned me into a temporary earth mother type). He was amazed that the dogs hadn't eaten it. By the time I got back, Spook was gone, but had phoned me to say the pizza was excellent. There was no sign of the bread, but the rack seemed undisturbed and there was no evidence of distruction, so I figured Spook had tucked it away somewhere safe. I phoned him to find out where he had stashed it, and he didn't know anything about it. So it was tucked away inside the dogs, which explained why they hadn't eaten the pizza. One of them must have gripped the loaf carefully in his teeth so as not to knock anything over and they had both hoovered up the crumbs to hide the evidence. On careful inspection of the green blanket, there were little flecks of my beautiful loaf stuck in the fibres. It was almost the perfect crime.
Spook got up early this morning and was gone before the rest of us could prise our eyes open. Meg couldn't find the brioche, of which there were two packets as it was a buy one, get one free deal. We found two empty packets in the bin. Finn found the yellow plastic tag under the blanket. We didn't think the dogs would have managed to put the bags in the bin, so guessed that Spook must have cleaned up after the midnight feast.
We digested the disappointment, if little else, and I went to make the packed lunch. Although a chaotic day yesterday, I had managed to buy some fresh rolls for the job. There was no sign of these iether, and further raking through the bin uncovered that packet too. The children were delighted to head off to school with money in their pocket for the delights that the 'icy van' could yield. So excited, that Finn forgot his P.E kit. I jumped on the bike and rushed it over just before school started and left it in the office. By the time I got back, there was an empty packet of cinnamon and raisin bagels on the blanket - slightly pushed under, but by now the dogs were so full on carbs, they were getting sloppy. Thankfully, the bagels were also part of the buy one, get one free deal, so there is still something left to eat. I know it's looking like I am not learning from lessons. but the bagels were in a closed bread bin. A nose had slid it open. The brioche and rolls were on top of the bin and tucked in the side at the back of the counter. I guess one success has spurred the dogs onto others. The military training at the hands of their master has not carried on into civvie life - depsite Megs attempts. It will be back to boot camp for them once their dad has had his holiday.

see www.nofussevents.co.uk for the Tour De Ben Nevis DVD. The Highland Warrior will be on soon.

What's wrong with reading a book?

It was The Big Weekend last week. And none of these images come from it. Because the fair weather didn't arrive as hoped, though it was fair at the World Duathlon Championships in Edinburgh on the day after the Ben Race. Kenny Riddle won his category, which makes him world class. He is a good friend of No Fuss and the team went over to Edinburgh to see him crowned. Another friend, Graham White, did well too. The Belgians, hand in hand, won the Elite - 1st, 2nd and 3rd, with the older of these two men pushing the younger over the line to take gold. It was fun for the No Fusser's to watch instead of organise.

Then it was back to Fort William to prepare for The Big Triathlon, Half Triathlon, Tour De Ben Nevis, and Highland Warrior Triathlon.......all on the same weekend.

I nipped up the Ben before work on Friday to stash pork pies, peanut butter sandwiches, juice and blueberries. It rained most of the way and the wind howled aboot. I had an hour to get dried out and into work for a long late shift.

Spook and team worked 18 hours a day for the most part. I went back up the Ben on Saturday with Graham White, thankfully a little tired from the Duathlon Championships, so that there was some hope of me keeping up. WE went through the usual irrational panic that the leader would get to the top before us, even though they were swimming around the loch and cycling around the glen before tackling the big hill. We'd planned an easy pace, but ended up taking short cuts with big rucksacks (full of dry clothes for keeping warm at the top), and hearts lowping. We got to the top the usual hour before the 1st participant, and had time to hide behind cairns and get out of wet clothes and into dry ones. Hopping about in bare feet, on sharp granite, trying to get woolly tights over wet feet, without exposing oneself to the masses in the mist was a bit of a trial. I'm not sure if Graham had the woolly tights issue or not, I couldn't see in the murk. We chose a side of the mountain each and I got most of the contents of my wardrobe onto my body - eventually.

We had about 6 hours up there, permanently in the mist, with about an hour or so of heavy rain at the end, but we were warmed by the efforts of the athletes, and the appreciation for pork pies and berries at the top of the hill. We were joined after a while, by Jonathon, who is in the rescue team. He was great company and was a pleasure to walk off the hill with, full of stories from the Ben, strolling as if going down the high street. Which was just as well, as after the prize giving, which he went to with his partner, Emma, (who'd done the half tri,) they got called out on a rescue and had to walk all the way back up The Ben at 10pm, returning at 6am!!!!

I lay in a heap at home, with creaking knees.

All the events were a big success and there were lot's of happy people.

I am happy because despite all the heavy, and by now cold, rain, my tomatoes which have been suffering a drought in the polytunnel because no one has stopped long enough to water them, have still turned red. Although none of them taste as amazingly good as Maggie's did from the Wanaka sunshine.

Ben Report

Spook and I both had a great day taking part in the Ben Race. The weather was lovely, which although causing some anxiety for runners, meant it was an enjoyable day for the long suffering spectators.

I made the 1st two cut-offs bang on time and the last one with 4 minutes to spare. As the race went on, I began to feel confident that I could at least get within the time, so could enjoy the craic. I did manage to kiss and hug my way up and down, but Wullie only had cider, instead of the usual whisky or brandy, which was more than disappointing. Spooky kindly cleared his upperlip of debris before administering a life-saving snog, stopped to say hello to his best wee pal, Drew, on the way into the field and still managed a 2hr13min time. This is his 2nd slowest time and my slowest, so we have made a vow to get out and have fun all year round, rather than the panic at the last minute which takes the pleasure out of it. There must be lots of ways of keeping fit without it being a chore.

I'm back up the Ben on Saturday to marshall for the Big Tri. Those athletes will have swum about in the loch, and raced round the Glen a few times on the bike before even tackling the mountain, so it is a bit humbling when they eventually get to us at the top. The weather looks like it will be ok again, so hopefully they wont have the elements to fight as well.

A Wanaka Day.

It's quite nice, getting to hang out with Spook at his work. That's what most of these pictures are - Spook checking out bits and pieces of the upcoming events.

It's the Ben Race tomorrow. The training has never really come together for iether of us, but at least Spook is pretty fit, if not hill fit. It is a bit of a worry for me making cut off times - 1hr to the half way, 2 hours to the top and 3hrs 15mins to finish. Fingers crossed. But the weather is set to be fair, the hill will be covered in well-wishers and offers of jelly babies and drams. The jelly babies get stuck in my cheek, but the dram goes down a treat (thanks in anticipation, Willie.) There is always the chance of a couple of kisses on the way up, too. One from my husband on his way down, if he can find me, and another from an undisclosed source, about half way up the 2nd half. So between that and the marshalls that tend to cover the same spots each year, there is always a cheer to look forward at different places and a hug from Mr Porter at the top. One might begin to question my determination to take part in this race.

As local athletes taper off their training, there seemed little point in me tapering anything, so I went on a 27 mile cycle with Spook today as he put out notices in the forest, to warn users of the Tour De Ben Nevis. There probably wasn't a better place to live on a day like this, even though it was what Spook fondly calls a 'Wanaka Day'. One where the sun shines and you feel like it will be like that every day for a long time to come.

Finn on Finn.

The wee lad has cut a couple of teeth, and came round for big Finn to have a look at. Lovely pearls.

The biker chick theme continued when Spook and Finn invited me to join them on the downhill red route at Nevis Range. I had heard it was a bit scary, but with a good pair of hill running shoes, it is no bother, especially with a sturdy mountain bike to provide stability - better than walking poles. Finn had never been down it before and set off at a good pace on hardtail bike and no body armour. He spent a lot of time good naturedly waiting for his mother. It's a great track as long as you don't get too hung up on trying to stay on the bike. I had no problems!

It is raining straight down today. I was determined to go up the Ben but only managed a half as it was too uninspiring to go all the way. Training has been very poor, but I am on the Kelloggs diet of 2, 45g bowls of cereal a day plus my evening meal. This will end on the Wednesday before the race, I will have lost 10lbs and as a result, fly up the Ben like a butterfly. Except that, in order not to collapse at the half way point from malnourishment, I will have been carbo loading all day Thursday and Friday and be back to 11stone.

Spook came with me, but started a mile down the road and my target was to stay ahead as long as possible. With the psychological advantage of believing myself to be fairy light (been on the 2 bowls a day for 5 days, and it does say you can carry on with your usual snacks, so an entire big bag of Kettles crisps the other night whilst feasting on two DvD's shouldn't be too much of a setback), I kept ahead for longer than usual and we then had a very companionable run down together. Both of us had wished we were not on the hill at first as weary, sluggish limbs tried to get a bit of enthusiasm going, but on the way back down we were upbeat and glad to have done it. If it wasn't for the Ben, I would not be out at all. I always said The Ben looks after me - physically and mentally.

Amongst the dull and rainy days, there has been some great light - hints of Autumn, if not in the colours. The polytunnel has yielded some juicy harvest. Some has been a little hard to swallow. If the Munro's wont eat mushrooms because they are slimy, there is not much point in cooking snails.

Romance in the Forest.

The children have gone to the cinema. This required departing at 3pm (due to Meg's work) and returning at midnight approx. It greatly saddens me that we can't just nip to town to enjoy a cinematic experience. I see no reason why we couldn't have a Cinema Paradiso like Wanaka, apart from the ridiculous rates charged for lease of property. 130mile round trip is a bit of an epic. But not for Spook and I. We have been left at home. I had intended to go to the top of The Ben on my day off today, but awoke to a grey curtain of rain and couldn't quite face it. I filled the day with domesticity - shopping, posting of outstanding items, washing, sorting out drawers etc. Every time the sun shone I looked at the top of the Ben and knew I should have been making my way up there. It got really lovely approaching tea time, and there was still time to go, but I wooed Spook with Salmon (not worth presenting such slimy stuff to the children) and hoped he might opt for a romantic walk around the canal instead of anything too strenuous. But no, having appeared to have turned into a biker chick last weekend, he proposed a cycle through Leanachan Forest. I know I said I was looking for the next adventure, but I didn't really mean it. And the biker chick effect really did come from my inability to get off the bike - the relaxed pose, actually exhaustion. However, as is always the case, and is the good reason for having an enthusiastic cycling companion who wont take no for an answer, we had a great trip up to the high point, which we can see from the house on the other side of the Great Glen. The evening light was terrific, and as we wheeched down the trail, I had the feeling of being 15 years younger. We used to go out in the evenings pre children, but this is the first year since, that we can do things together without arranging care. The only problem now, is staying awake long enough to tuck them in when they come home.