Tibby and Barny

I'm glad Hilary didn't name the goose while we were there. I might not have been able to let Jason cook it if it had a name.... she has since posted photos of it on facebook and called it Barny, which suits it as it is (eh, was) a Barnacle Goose. It had a wild free life and it was very much appreciated for its taste after its demise. Here is Tibby getting it on with Barny's removed head. She let out low growls to anyone who went near her while she was toying with the goose head.

Sunday Morning (and evening)

The swiiming pool is across the road from Hilary's house, so handy. And right next door to the Bowmore Distillery. Shame that everything is shut on a Sunday. When you think that most folk ar visiting for the weekend, it makes a lot of sense to me to open on a Sunday, but it's probably some religious island thing.

Just before it goes in the oven

Jason cooked the goose on Sunday night when we got back. He absolutely loved it. So did the cats. I wasn't too keen, a bit too strong tasting for me. It tasted not unlike beef and I can't have my burds tasting like beef, that's just wrong.

Tibby talks when asked

Tibby had just done that thing that cats do when they see something that they want to attack but they can't because they are indoors. It's a bit like opening your mouth and clacking your teeth together. She had just done this for a minute or so and stopped as soon as I got my camera. So I asked her to do it again for me. And she did. Twice!

Pppphhhheathers, says Silvester

Jason managed to look like the cat who got caught in the canary cage after plucking the bird. You can't make out all the feathers so I highlighted them!

The Goose!

So here is the goose being plucked. Jason was actually really looking forward to this part. I can't imagine anything worse. It sounded like velcro being ripped off. There is maybe one thing more disgusting...

Goose liver, yuk!

Jason cooked up the goose liver (eh yuk) and he, James and Hilary all tried it, weirdos that they are. In order to counterbalance the horrible picture of the liver, I have given you a lovely picture of some posies that were on Hilary's table.

Jura from Hilary's back garden

Lovely Jura

Jura was lovely. A five minute ferry from Islay. When you go to Islay from the mainland, you are aware of how remote you are. What's strange is that when you go over to Jura, Islay feels a bit like the uncouth, busy mainland. Jura is remote and peaceful. It's where Orwell wrote 1984. You get a sense of serenity when you're on Jura, helped by the fact that the only road winds round the side of the hills, alongside the coast. I can imagine it being a very restful place. We only went over for a drive and some lunch. I don't think I could live on it, but I would like to experience a short break on it one day.

Tormisdale Croft Crafts

This is James' step-mum's shop. She spins the wool herself on a spinning wheel, it's wonderful to watch. And then she knits and sews beautiful creations. gorgeous fingerless gloves, cashgora (cashmere and angora mix) scarves, wonderful jumpers, oh all sorts of stuff. I could have spent all day up there. And her finishing is exquisite. What I aspire to. You can't get better praise than that! I can't wait to go back.

Tibby likes to have a wee sit

The last time I came up to Islay, Tibbs had a wee nap on my suitcase. This time it was the turn of my cardigan. Awww.

Tinker is Pinker

Tinker is a gentler cat, more of a lady. Here she is cuddling up with Jason. They both took to Jason very well, but Tinker came back for more cuddles than Tibby. She has a lovely pinky colour to her. When the goose was unveiled, Tinker was too ladylike to get involved, preferring to sit in the background. Quite right, Tinker.

Tibby the Tiger

Maybe it's the outdoor life giving her a lovely ruddy glow but Tibby looks so beautiful and wild these days. A right proper tiger. She even had ginger markings. She loves the outdoor life; and stealing crabs' legs from the beach!