When and where the dark eclipses be

Physics has never been my strong point.  In fact, I only ever took one exam in the subject.  I wrote my name at the top of the paper, 'Physics Examination' and the number 1 in the margin.  You know how they always give you a really easy question for number 1 so that everyone gets at least one mark?  I couldn't even manage that one.  So I fall back on this as a pathetic excuse for why I got up at 6 am in order to watch the partial solar eclipse on 4th January 2011.  As it doesn't get light up here till after 8.30, this was a little premature.  Nonetheless, I stationed myself by the window, camera in hand, and watched the sky slowly lighten. I noted the length of time it took, contrasting this with sunrise in the tropics, where at 6.27 am it's pitch dark and by 6.32 am brilliant sunlight.  So far north, you see, I said to myself, pleased with my startling astronomical insight.  But by 9.30 it was pretty sunny, and the moon hadn't put in her anticipated appearance.  It was at this point I realised that, in order to observe the eclipse, I needed to be on the other side of the hill I was looking at.  So I rushed out, jeans over jammies, drove towards the sun... and got it full in the face as it rose over the headland.  Quite painful, really.  If I'd got up later, had a leisurely breakfast and driven to the farther side of Stanger Head in the pre-dawn, I'd have had a perfect view.  Two eclipses in as many weeks and I've failed to see either of them properly.  Heigh ho. Hope you like the pictures.

It is the yeare's midnight...

An official end to puffinsilence. I have been ill for a long time, but just as St. Lucy's Day is now past and the days grow longer, I am past the worst and hoping to return to all the fun of seasickness and getting soaked and the other aspects of working life here that make it such a unique experience. Since June, I have worked for exactly one hour and forty minutes. (It was hell, let me tell you. ) I have missed all kinds of excitement. The 'Autumnwatch' team turned up on Stronsay and talked to the kids about careers in media. (I hope they impressed on them the importance of passing their English exams, as I have so far failed to make such an impression.) The main impetus for change on Hoy actually occured just before the end of the summer term, so I was there, when the headteacher simply quit with virtually no notice. She was followed by another member of staff (I was going to write 'of the team', but 'teamplayer' is the last thing he was) who outdid her by resigning on the last day of the school year. So two down; then I fell ill at the start of the hols; then the Upper Primary teacher had a burst appendix and is still off. Still, with the entire roll down to 19, I guess the school can cope better than, say, an establishment with 1500 students that loses a sizeable portion of its staff. There are now three kids in the secondary school.

We have had snow, not enough to be inconvenient, just enough to make every day joyous. It has been very cold and very still, with the sea like glass and the air so clear you could see the distant coast of Scotland with its own snow-cover. The lunar eclipse on the winter solstice was very clearly visible - most impressive. Sadly, although Flotta only has three lamposts, one of them was right next to the moon, as seen from our house. On any other day, I would have gone up the West Hill to take a view with less light-pollution, but I was due for my second day of 'phased return to work' so I was employed in attempting to drive to the ferry at the time when the eclipse was at its most impressive. Although the island's roads have been kept ice-free throughout both recent spells of heavy snow, those responsible for this (note my careful use of non-specific pronoun) never, ever clear the area in front of our house, which faces north and is low-lying and consequently, once frozen, remains friz. It is a public highway, thirteen households park their cars there and most need to get to work, but a species of island apartheid operates when it comes to the allocation of grit. So I failed in my attempt to shift the car, while my exertions brought about a massive asthma attack and subsequent collapse and (yet another) day in bed. All this is an excuse for why there is no photo of such a spectacular celestial event.

Finally, back to warmer days.  We are inordinately proud of our vegetable patches (created by digging up areas of the lawn.)  Eagle-eyed readers may have spotted the lack of trees and thus of shelter.  Despite this, we kept ourselves in veg this year and...wait for it...by placing an old window over the lettuces we have kept them going right up till now.  Our own salad in December!  I preen.