‘Tis the season for… Giant Maltesers.

Fear not, I am not whipping out my baubles just yet. Oh no, I’m just announcing the new season of carpet bowls.

On my way down the lane after a dog walk, this scene stopped me in my tracks. Keeper’s Cottage looking deliciously cosy and autumnal.

Well, you lovely bunch, we meet again. Another Friday. Another instalment of ‘From Keeper’s Cottage’. So, grab the beverage of your choice (soon, we’ll be lacing them with Bailey’s – even at midday on a Friday, there’s no judgement here) and get comfortable for my usual inane rambling, and of course, the odd innuendo squeezed in for good measure. Unfortunately, I can’t offer you any biscuits, as I’ve eaten the lot in anticipation of my online grocery order to arrive. Alas, it never turned up. My weekend wine and crisps are trundling around Argyll somewhere. Yikes.

A very impostery November for me

First and foremost, I need to address how quickly this year is going. Something I waffle on about incessantly over on Instagram. But really. I am not fully prepared for these dark evenings just yet (though the fire is on and candles lit, so I’m getting there) and so few days of 2024 remaining. Still so much to do. I am also feeling very mixed about November, because in my day job a project I have been working on is drawing to a close. For those who don’t know, I work for a research centre across a number of universities. I haven’t done my own research since my PhD many (many) years ago. So to say I’m out of my comfort zone, well… I am out of my comfort zone. To make matters worse, I have to present some of this work to a webinar of experts at the end of the month. I have started dreaming about this already. But, I am sure I’ll be fine, and if I really put things in perspective, what I do is not life or death – so I really need to get a grip on it. But public speaking is one of my biggest fears. In reality, I am not a very confident person, but this will be a big step for my development, no matter how it goes (I suppose). I am not one to wish my precious time away, but I must confess I am looking forward to that being over and I can fully focus on getting Keeper’s Cottage ready for the Best Time of Year Ever (in my little old opinion).

“Just tickle Gareth’s balls”

The changing of the clocks marks a new season in the Carpet Bowling Season in our neck of the woods. For anyone unfamiliar with carpet bowling, as was I a couple of years ago, it is very similar to the idea of crown green bowling, but conducted on long tables indoors, throughout the autumn and winter months. I am now approaching my third season, and I must say, I am very consistent. Consistently bad, of course. I will blame my left handedness, as I so often do.

Despite being hopeless at it, and despite it being held each Monday evening at 8pm – a time that I really should really be installed in front of my log burner, with a snoozing pooch nearby – we all turn up at our village halls, and actually, when you’re there and you’ve got a wee dram down you, it’s all rather lovely. And on match nights, the host teams wheels out a ‘tea’ at the end of the evening, which is a buffet of homemade bakes and cakes. I mean, actually, when you think about it, that’s a pretty good way to tackle a Monday.

It is also THE BEST game for a person like me, who loves a cheeky innuendo. Yes, the words “just tickle Gareth’s balls” have been uttered on more than one occasion. For those less familiar with the rules of carpet bowling (and I’m sketchy, so forgive me, as I attempt to blind you with science): two teams, once has spotty balls, the other doesn’t (probably should call them bowls?) The aim is to get as many in the rings as possible by the end, with the centre (the ‘button’) being the winning spot. The ‘skip’ is the team captain and has a rather rustic stick of willow to wave about and shout orders. It turns out you can shout as many orders at me as you like, but my balls will do as they please. In fact, my shots often end up wiping all of my fellow teammates off the table, giving our competitors all of the points *reaches for another wee dram*.

When I was ‘skipping’ last season, I was asked: “how many inches do you want?” My facial expression sent all those around me into peals of laughter. I am a sweet, innocent boy really, and I attempted to blame the blushing on the heat from the electric radiator right above my head. As the table settled down, I managed to croak out a: “well, nine inches would be lovely, but six will do.” I really shouldn’t settle for less. I’ll never make a champion. C’est la vie.

Bowling balls or giant Maltesers?

But what’s all this to do with Giant Maltesers, I hear you ask?  Well, when I shared a picture of my balls on Instagram earlier so many people thought they were giant Maltesers. And now that’s all I can think about. Don’t they sound like the best?

Is a love blossoming?

Last weekend I got a message late on Friday night from an Instagram pal of mine, who doesn’t live too far away, and who I’ve spoken to through Instagram for some time, asking if I fancied a nice walk, somewhere quiet, where we could finally meet in person, and also give our reactive dogs a chance to meet. You might have seen me mention this on Instagram, but if not, it way my pal Jo (@riversrunandriversflow on Instagram, and she always offers lovely, wholesome, dog-filled, Scottish loveliness). Her message couldn’t have come at a better time. The weather was West Coast dreich, as it often is. I was home alone all weekend, and working on the aforementioned report. The thought of getting out into the hills with a lovely human and a gathering of dogs, no matter how chaotic it would be, was a lovely prospect. And it was an utter delight. Jo was lovely, and we connected on many levels. It’s nice when you meet a person who you instantly click with, and who understands all your little foibles (of which mine are legion).

When social media is the good guy! A lovely hike looking back over Loch Awe, with a slightly impatient Golden Retriever in the background.

Our reactive dogs (Heidi being Jo’s and Logie being mine) had a big old row at the beginning. But after they both got whatever beef they were harbouring off their furry wee chests, we detected a slight love blossoming. In fact, Jo managed to capture the sweetest shot of them. It looked like they were the equivalent of a young, dating couple arm-in-arm taking in a spectacular view from an early date hike. The reality, we suspect, is they both caught the scent of a deer.

Either way, a love is blossoming and a friendship beyond Instagram is building. And that is a lovely outcome for a rainy Saturday.

Beautiful Heidi and Logie, having moment. (photo credit: @riversflowandriversrun)

 For now folks, I think that’s the lot. I shall sit, not so patiently, wondering if Morrisons will ever arrive with my shopping (it has weekend crisps and wine, hence the concern!) Paul’s due home tomorrow, so we will hopefully have a quiet Sunday, where we can go for a nice walk locally, then back to coorie in to Keeper’s Cottage and enjoy a home-cooked roast dinner.

I hope you all have a lovely weekend, whatever you get up to.

G xx