Smailhome

Grim, grey, dreary - words that could describe the Tower House, or just as well the weather. It can't go on like this, can it?

Perhaps the morning wasn't quite so bad, but I was at the dentist for an hour and a half and not really aware of what was happening outside.

Whiled away the afternoon here, at Smailhome. 

It wasn't hard to imagine ourselves back in the days when this was a lawless land, and organised crime - stealing livestock - was the way to make a living. From the top of the tower you would hope to see the raiders coming in time to herd your animals into the ground floor room, your nearest and dearest into the chambers above, and pray the thieves wouldn't be able to batter their way in.  

The only other people there were two families of tourists, German and Belgian. I wanted to tell them that it's lovely here when the sun shines, but I don't suppose that would help, would it?