Views from the kayak on a supernaturally still night

I wish to wholeheartedly recommend the Bic Ouassou sit-on-top kayak. So far this year, I have been out on the water more than in the past five years put together. It's stable, safe, robust (rotary-moulded polythene) and above all, easy to use.No faffing about with bad outboards and heavy, leaky boats. And it was cheap too.

Anyway, out tonight from about 21.40 until 22.30, on a night so calm you could see the sandeels' ripples. And so could the tirricks, who came plummeting down like mini-gannets, hitting the water like aerial torpedoes.

St Magnus' Bay was ridiculously still. Sitting in the kayak was like sitting on a rock. And, to quote The Other Bruce (Cockburn) the sun went down, looking like the eye of God.

By the way, these photos were taken on a fairly basic phone, a Samsung Solid. Which I can say without fear of contradiction, is splashproof. Not to say immersion proof.

To the peat hill! To the kayak! Warning - this blog contains shorts and red shoes

On a night like this, one's thoughts in Shetland turn, inevitably (and in our case with considerable guilt) to the peat hill. Three banks cut (not by us - our friend Lornie did the heavy tushker work), half-raised (by us, slowly) and drying out so fast in this weather that nearly everyone else has their peats bagged and home.

It's back-breaking toil, with only a few minutes' winter fuel in every single turf turned. But with the new Haas und Sohn stove, and the price of oil...we're not alone in making a commitment to local carbon fuels this summer. And before you make accusations of profligate carbon abuse, remember this is (in Shetland's case) a local (a mile away) fuel and in almost infinite supply if not extracted commercially.

So to the peat hill. Susan insisted that my shorts-and-red-All-Stars mid-life crisis get-up be recorded. Fashion statements are crucial on the hill. And then she went kayaking...

The Gaslight Anthem, live with Bruce...

This is The Gaslight Anthem's best song, and it has to be said that Bruce adds not very much to it other than his charisma, dodgy backing vocals and a very competent guitar break. Hell, that's enough! In terms of anointing the inheritors, it's surely significant. And thrilling for all concerned. See it here.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/glastonbury/2009/artists/gaslightanthem/index.shtml#emp

Hot days and nights in Shetland...

Fantastic, almost unprecedented weather in Shetland. Too hot to go out yesterday! Today was the Mavis Grind Foy...where else can you get a seafood platter (skate, smoked mackerel, mussels and fresh salmon) for £4? Mavis Grind is a narrow isthmus where the North Sea meets the Atlantic. From Viking times until the 1950s, it was used as a short cut, with boats being dragged over the land from sea to sea in order to avoid the sometimes ferocious conditions around the northernmost part of North Roe. The pictures include a view over South Whiteness on Shetland's west side, and a shot of the sky taken at 12.45am today from our house.

Yesterday, one of Susan's registrars, a doctor from Barbados, said it was 'too hot' and very like home...

First book read in 30 years...and a review in The Scotsman

...by Lesley McDowell. I suppose it was inevitable that Serpentine would be coupled with Alan Clements' Rogue Nation (same publisher, both authors working in the Scottish media, although I'm not the zillionaire boss of STV.) Fair points made, I think, though obviously as a writer you don't really want intelligent objectivity, you want TOTAL AND BREATHLESS ENTHUSIASM.
Read the review here:
http://www.scotsman.com/bookreviews/Book-reviews-Serpentine--Rogue.5397578.jp
My favourite extract would have to be:
I never knew Inverness was such a hive of secret government and anti-government activity, where not even retired lesbian agents can enjoy their peaceful Sapphic idyll without being captured or beaten to death by Irish Unionist thugs

Which only goes to show what a sheltered life Ms McDowell has led. It must be said that both Rogue Nation and Serpentine are treated with the same unwillingness to suspend disbelief. Ah well.

Meanwhile, I received an email this week from a woman who'd bought the book for her husband who, she said "had not read a book in 30 years." At the end of the first chapter he apparently said "this is hopeful" and proceeded to finish it in double quick time. Result!