Good old days?

These old fishermen's huts sit above a little cove; a (now rusted) winch is set above them and helped getting the boats up and down the steep, narrow access. It was really not that long ago at all that the place would have been in use (I can well remember a similar set up elsewhere and my brother going out fishing with our farmer friend) but modern farming practices and the decimation of the fishing grounds by foreign trawlers scooping up everything in sight has put paid to an ancient necessity. And, of course, the Tesco's lorry brings up everything a person could wish for; no need for salted fish now.

I was with a lovely lady from the Community Council who was suggesting possible sites for a memorial bench for my parents. This was one of them but I chose a different site where Mum and Dad spent a lot of time. I loved that there were other benches there commemorating others' special people. And I loved that the Councillor said that they felt honoured that peoples' loved ones found such joy in being on these islands that they wanted to remember them in their special place.

A good end to a rainy, cold and increasingly windy day. Boy, it was chilly on those cliffs!!

Earlier I visited our old friend, the above mentioned farmer's wife, 97 last Monday. Still with it, but very tired after her many birthday visitors and quite a bit of excusable dozing happened. I recall her in the 70s, a bundle of energy, so hospitable and helpful. She still wanted to know all the goings on in the family but with long pauses for little naps. The last one left of that generation from my childhood holidays.