SUMMERTIME!

For the last three days, my beloved islands have been bathed in warm, almost uninterrupted sunshine. This morning, as I looked out over Breiwick Bay from my lofty window, the cruise ship "Polar Star" and the magnificent Norwegian tall ship "Statsraad Lehmkuhl" made their graceful way towards the sun-drenched harbour at Lerwick. My thoughts have been turning towards cruise ships this week, and I have booked my stall at the Toll Clock Shopping Centre to tempt some of the passengers from the "Aida Cara" on Thursday next, and the "Azamara Journey" the following Tuesday. If some of the passengers make it past the cordon of tour buses awaiting them at the pierhead, they may just stray towards the goods available at the Tait Gallery. Whatever their itinerary, I hope the sun continues to shine for them.

My promotional products have arrived from the manufacturers, and the T-shirts will add some welcome variety to the prints and postcards I already sell at the stall.

I've started work on two large-ish canvases this week, both of which feature harbour scenes, both of which will contain a great deal of detail, both of which will require careful planning and execution, and both of which will consume a lot of my time. One is a commission for one of my "regulars", a retired businessman and yachtsman from Sweden, and the other, of low tide at Johnshaven, is for my next exhibition at Catterline, whenever that might be - possibly next year.

On Friday, I took my weekly trip out to Whiteness which, like the rest of Shetland, was warm, sunny and caressed by a southerly breeze. My mother was well, and I did my usual bits and pieces around the house, even straying into the garden, which is in a state of natural neglect, on a couple of occasions. There is a magnificent display of dandelion "clocks" there, and it will take a week of hard labour from someone much fitter than me to restore it to any sort of respectability. At least my mother's new next-door-neighbour's cats are discouraging the rabbits, which plagued the flower-beds and vegetable plot in previous years.

I fried whiting in batter for our lunch, did the washing up, watered the greenhouse plants, and did what I could to give my mother a rest from the process of managing simple household tasks which are exhausting for 92-year-old lady on a zimmer-frame. In just another 3 weeks' time, she will have another fortnight's respite "holiday" in Wastview Care Centre at Walls, and she is always more than ready for these breaks. The uncomfortable fact has to be faced that, at some point, mother will no longer be able to stay in the home which my father had built, for their retirement, in the early 1970s. It's a lovely house and location, but she's been there on her own for 13 years since Dad died, and, for all of that time, she's had severe mobility problems. The decision to leave will be hers alone, and none of us want to lose beautiful Brugarth, which has been our heart and soul for nearly 40 years, but, at the back of our minds, is the intensely sad thought that it will happen one day. It's a thought that remains largely unspoken between my sisters, brother and I.

How can I cheer you all up after all the heavy sadness of the foregoing? I could tell you that I made scotch broth for my sister and I to enjoy on Monday lunchtime, and the resultant flatulence was probably single-handedly responsible for a deterioration in the ozone layer. Thank goodness I'm self-employed, with no-one else around to experience the fall-out, but I'm not sure if I did the staff at Shetland Charitable Trust any favours. On Tuesday I had a couple of pints of amber nectar and lime at da Noost and da Lounge, but I know my limitations drink-wise nowadays. Prior to that I'd bought a pair of wide-fitting size 11 trainers, at DE Shoes, my feet having spread from the standard size 9 which I was when in my prime. They cost £29.99, which is reasonable, and they will hopefully carry me around the mean streets of Banff and Macduff when I am away there next month.

Yesterday afternoon, my neighbour arrived upstairs with three splendid trout (one sea and two brown), half (sic!) of which I put in a bowl with coarse salt, and placed in the fridge to have for my lunch tomorrow. The other half I put in a bag in the freezer for another occasion. Hurrah for Alex and Greta Munro (not their first mention in these columns) - may the fish always rise for them! Greta says she uses me as a cat. I'll purr, scratch the furniture and make holes in the garden for her any day!