Yellow warning

Has our weather recently got worse?

Whenever stormy weather is imminent we start to get warning messages beamed at us telling us what to do and more importantly what not to do in order to keep safe. All very helpful, of course, although I have doubts about how much heed most people take of it. Why else would there be traffic jamming up our roads in the middle of a storm. We are conditioned to believe that our houses are secure and our roads are there to allow us to move about freely no matter what the weather is doing outside. Modern cars are built bigger and stronger than ever before and the messages put out by advertisers encouraging us to buy them are aimed at making us believe how indestructible they are and how safe and secure we are inside them.

Over the last year or so, however, there seem to have been more of these weather warning messages which raises the question posed above as to whether there has been a significant shift towards a different pattern of weather in our world. A greater frequency of warning messages does not necessarily mean this is the case. It could, for example, simply be that the wind strength or rainfall warning level has been reduced or perhaps it is simply that the media have convinced themselves that people are excited by those rare weather events and there will be more viewers on a particular TV channel if it shows footage of massive waves smashing into someone's house. It matters not if the footage was shot in another country where the event occurred many months ago. If it gets more viewers then put it on.

We have recently been sent four warnings about strong wind and rain - yellow is the colour - but when we look deeper into the areas affected we discover that the south west of England will bear the brunt of it. Here in the west of Scotland it will remain calm for the time being but a different storm might affect us several days later. Of course if we were planning a drive to Cornwall then we might be interested in the warning message but how many others are like us and go behind that initial warning message to see what it means. If most people assume the warning is directly personal to where they live then when the wind does not arrive they will have learnt not to trust the media and might pay little heed to subsequent messages. The ease of communication in our modern world will have let us down by failing to be tailored to where each of us live.

All of which leaves us with the question 'Has our weather recently got worse?' unanswered. What is certain is that reporting on weather events throughout the world has increased, which leaves us with the impression that we are facing climate-altering changes and the prevailing view is that these are brought on by our own behaviour.

Time will tell how immune we are from the worst of these changes in our part of the world - perhaps less time than we think if the latest weather warning proves to be accurate.

We prepare ourselves for what is coming by taking a look around the garden to see what might get blown about. Our compost bin lids have a habit of taking off but we have no overhanging trees and so far as we know there are no garden trampolines in our neighbourhood. Our conclusion is that so as long as the house roof stays on we should be safe. The predicted wind direction should mean we will have some shelter from the surrounding hills although we know from experience that this is not necessarily true. If this blog gets posted online then it probably means we have survived.

What we can see from our home's high vantage point is that the harbour below us is filling up with work vessels that normally spend their time at sea supporting the local fish farms. Tarbert is a naturally sheltered place to moor up when the weather is bad so the storm warnings have clearly been received and are being acted upon.

Later...

This one had a name, storm Boelo, and yes, our house has survived intact.

Not so lucky was the reclaimed greenhouse roof that we had repurposed as a log shelter attached securely, so we thought, to the side of a shed. Sometime in the night a gust of wind arrived, so strong that it caused the roof structure to break free and take flight, the whole thing being lifted up over the top of the shed and then thrown down towards the road. It landed rather uncomfortably on our garage roof leaving us the job of cutting it into pieces with an angle grinder so that it can be taken to the dump.

Strangely this event does seem to have provided the answer to the question posed here at the start. The log store shelter had been happily in place for years and had survived gales coming from all directions...until now, when a single unimaginary blast of air caused it to take flight. We shall try not to dwell upon what might have happened had it gone just a little further and landed on someone in the road.

Keeping clean

One of the nice things about living in a small rural community in a place to which many would apply the term 'remote' is that when there is some work that needs doing, something that impacts on us all, then there are always those who step up to help. We live by the sea in two directions, to the east and to the west, being at the root of the Kintyre peninsula, so dependant upon the wind direction the shorelines facing each way tend to collect rubbish. This may either be tossed deliberately into the sea, from boats or from the land, or else it may originate from sea-based industries, mostly fishing. A lot of this rubbish is plastic of one sort or another and this will gradually break up into smaller pieces when it reaches a rocky shore or even a sandy beach and gradually these small pieces accumulate along the shore or are blown inland into surrounding woodland. This does not sit well with many of us locally so we have organised beach cleaning parties where we try to pick up as much as we can then dispose of it sensibly.

Although we might try to arrange such events on days when the weather is kind to us this is not always possible as one recent event demonstrated. Our efforts to clean Escart Bay, a beach at the end of a long west facing sea loch, coincided with a westerly wind that most would not normally venture out into. Despite this the event was well attended, everyone being well wrapped up against the wind and, inevitably, the rain showers that came with it.

The physical part of picking up the rubbish from the shoreline is only part of the process. In order to monitor the state of the beach over time and to enable us to compare it with other beaches we try to document the amount and type of material we find. This is done by isolating one five metre section of the beach and recording a description of everything found there, something that is not easy to do when a strong wind is blowing.

Sadly the job all these volunteers are doing never leaves the beach totally clean because the smaller pieces of plastic become intermingled with the shoreline soil but we do what we can. Much of the plastic material we find is clearly fishing related, tiny rope strands from nets used in fishing activity and this may have originated many miles away before being carried by the currents onto our shores. It is disheartening to see so much of this locally but we do our best.

A rather more deliberate type of rubbish dumping also occurs in less frequented spots. A collection of old steel kitchen sinks clearly did not drift in from the sea by accident. They could only have been deliberately placed in the trees beside an old shoreside road by someone who had no thoughts regarding what this type of behaviour might lead to if we all did the same with our rubbish. Similarly when a number of very fresh looking beer cans, all of the same make, turn up on the shore this points to one individual tossing them carelessly away, perhaps from a boat, after drinking their favourite brew. These are things it is best not to dwell upon.

The next cleaning party was at a South facing beach in Loch Fyne, a place where we had a session last year, and we were all interested to see how much had come ashore there in the interim and what the rubbish consisted of. As it turned out there were very few larger pieces on the shoreline so we ended up crawling through the branches of brambles and other wild shoreline vegetation to get down to the tiny pieces of plastic mixed in with the sandy soil underneath. Old crisp packets, bottle tops, short lengths of rope were all dug out and recorded although this time we had almost no wind and the sun provided us with quite a warm day. Perhaps the most exciting find of the day was a knife, in perfect condition, buried at the top of the beach. We have a special container where we put 'sharps' that we find but in this case we all had a good laugh because the knife was a plastic one.

Mixing and chatting with a friendly group of like minded people adds to the pleasure of the beach party and brings a sense of achievement in doing some small thing to improve our world.

Hugel culture

Hügelkultur is a German word describing a form of culture involving a raised planting bed. The technique is said to have been practiced in German and Eastern European societies for hundreds of years but for us there was one significant benefit, one that was less important to those early cultivators; it is a way for us to dispose of significant quantities of wood. This is something that we have rather a lot of, cut down from the land just beyond our back fence. What it consists of is mostly long, odd shaped lengths of gorse and rhododendron branches, not really thick enough to be suitable as fuel for our home log burner stove, but rather than leave it lying about in heaps where the undergrowth will eventually swallow it up we have moved some of it into our garden where we have a particular use for it, in a Hugel bed.

Perhaps at this point some explanation is needed.

The idea is to create a raised bed for growing plants, some of which we might eventually eat. To do this, however, we first have to dig a large trench in the ground, putting the soil to one side so that eventually it can be heaped on top.

The trench is filled, first of all, with pieces of wood, in our case, mostly gorse branches. On top of this there are layers of other material such as cardboard, inverted turfs, cut grass, leaves and then eventually layers of compost. The idea is to create a raised heap so that vegetables or other plants can grow on it. The bed can be contained within a box like a conventional raised bed but this is not essential. The important part is what is at the bottom, the wood, which retains moisture and as it rots down will release nutrients for the roots of what is growing on top to burrow into and absorb.

At the start our Hugel bed looks a complete mess, a heap of long, awkward shaped sticks. We have more wood to fill in the gaps but we need a reliably dry day for this so I can use my electric chop saw outside in the garden and just now we are not getting many of these. In fact the amount of rain that has fallen of late has made it impossible to do anything outside. The season of autumn has arrived.

But a few days later the rain pauses and phase two follows. A few noisy hours are spent cutting long lengths into short sticks which are used to fill in the gaps in our wood heap then we lay some leafy hedge trimmings on top of this. A layer of wet cardboard (packing material from something we bought a while ago) goes on top of the wood and to hold this down we dump some wet turfs on top so it doesn't get blown away. It now looks even more of a mess and after all the rain there is a soggy patch all around the edges into which our feet easily slide but the heap is growing in height with each layer. The next rain will start to consolidate the heap so for the moment we can rest.

For phase three we raid one of our garden compost bins and spend the morning layering the contents on top of the heap, trying to create a uniform smooth surface. Once again we know that when the next lot of rain comes along it will soak into the heap but hopefully it won't wash away too much of the soil. There are unwanted weeds in the heap and we know that some of these will need to be removed but once we have planted things on top the weeds will have competition and it should be possible to keep them under control.

At this point we are not planting anything on the heap, the idea being that it should be left to consolidate for a while.

The Hugel bed now represents an impressive landmark in our garden, a conversation piece if nothing else, and a considerable amount of wood has disappeared out of sight.

Sailing yet again

We went through the process of selling our own boat more than nine months ago now. She (boats are always feminine) was a 'Cornish Shrimper', nineteen feet long and a classic sailing boat built by a company that has been around for many years. Ours was a MK1, which means she was quite elderly, dating from 1985 as I recall, and since then there have been MK2 Shrimpers of the same size, almost identical to look at such that only an expert could tell the difference.

Taking a picture of one's own boat under sail is always a challenge when you are actually on board sailing so here is what Eun na Mara once looked like from a distance, before we sold her. Living by the sea as we do I might have expected further adventures on the water but it is safe to say that I did not expect to be sailing again in a Shrimper. 

Then something strange happened. Just along the road from us lives a man called Chris and as it happens he is the owner of a Cornish Shrimper, a MK2, but it was perhaps inevitable that we would become friends at some point. We had plenty to talk about, tales to tell of our sailing experiences, things that can go wrong with this particular boat, mishaps they are called, and the pleasures of sailing in perfect conditions too. His boat is called Loup, and on passing his home we would frequently pause to admire the work he was doing on her as she lay on a trailer in his drive. We are now late in the sailing season and just recently we noticed that Chris's Shrimper had found her way back into the water. He plans to keep her in the marina just below us during the winter months. Then suddenly, out of the blue, I received an invitation from him to go out on a day's sailing.

My first point of call was to check the weather forecast, quite important since we had been going through a run of windy and wet days, sunshine alternating with torrential downpours. On the proposed day in question, however, things looked reasonably good; a light breeze from the west and just a forty percent chance of rain. What could possibly go wrong.

My next stop was the cupboard in which I had stored away my sailing clothes, the waterproof leggings and matching jacket, a hat and of course the lifejacket which thankfully still had a viable inflation cylinder inside it. Decisions on appropriate warm clothing needed to be made (it is always significantly cooler at sea) and I also raided the kitchen snack cupboard for a few nibbles. As it happened there was a box full of recently made cheese straws lying about so I stuffed as many of these as I could into a smaller container then the following morning, loaded up with all these things, I strode down to the marina where Chris was getting Loup ready. Although his boat is equipped with an inboard diesel engine Chris has been experimenting with a small electric outboard engine mounted on the stern which he prefers to use so we whispered our way out to sea with no noise at all. Sails were raised and off we sailed, the light breeze carrying us away from the harbour, in and out of the light rain showers that were drifting about everywhere, so it seemed.

He seemed happy to let me take turns on the helm and before long we had sailed out into Inchmarnock Water, the joining point of Kilbrannan Sound, Loch Fyne and the Kyles of Bute. It was here, when looking ahead, we saw an enormous flock of birds, mostly seagulls, take off from the water all in one go, rising like a cloud into the air. From past experience we both guessed that this might indicate the presence of a whale, or some other large beast so we watched and waited as we slowly sailed towards them. And sure enough, before long we could see some porpoises leaping out of the water and then the larger fins of some dolphins some distance away.

We were sailing quite slowly as the winds we were getting had been variable all the way so at this point we decided to turn and begin to make way back up the loch. This decision which must have caught the attention of some of the dolphins who suddenly decided to have some fun with us. It seems strange to think of animals like these 'having fun' but there is really no other explanation as to why they would want to swim right under our bow and stay with us as we sailed quietly along. It seems they are stimulated by the pressure of our bow wave and want to swim close by to expose themselves to this as much as possible.

The pleasure for us on board (boosted by the cheese straws of course) was just as great and when a couple of dolphins came close for a peep at us we thanked them and wished them well. It was a if the whole sea was alive with dolphins and porpoises, just for our benefit.

The rest of the day went well. We paused for lunch by dropping into Portavadie, a marina and swimming pool complex located across the loch from Tarbert, then set off towards home nicely refreshed. The wind had become a little more steady and the rain was just about holding off as we tacked across Loch Fyne back to Tarbert and then just outside the harbour we lowered the sails and once again switched on the electric outboard engine so we could ghost our way back to a marina berth in complete silence. As it happened the timing was perfect as soon after we were back the rain came on with a vengeance with more wind than we would have wanted out at sea.

Bad gardening

Not for the first time the subject matter here will deal with some of the less palatable aspects of 'gardening' that we have come across. Soon after we moved in to our present house we encountered a range of unpleasant items hidden in our garden, things that took us many hours of toil to remove. We found it very upsetting to think that our garden had been used as a dumping ground by someone who had lived in the house, a carefree attitude that tainted our early days of living here. We overcame this gradually and since then have managed the garden on our own terms, relishing the wild look by keeping the grass mostly uncut so we can take delight when something new emerges unexpectedly and bursts into flower. We have had wild orchids popping up here there and we relish the thick bed of moss that covers significant areas of the garden. These are things that are normal for our local rainforest climate and they would simply not be there if we mowed the garden regularly.

It has taken a lot of effort to get the garden to a point where it is manageable on our terms. Which was perhaps why more recently we began looking further, beyond the rear garden fence at what was growing wild there, much of it very close to or in contact with our back fence and threatening to invade us. Our efforts to tackle this are once again documented here. Having spent many hours dealing with the gorse and rhododendron growing beyond our rear fence during the cooler months of the year this work slowed down when it became warmer and the midge season arrived. Much of the area we cut back has since hosted a regrowth of bracken and stinging nettles, plants previously hidden from the light. We occasionally try to tame some of this, with limited success, but in doing so it has recently exposed the efforts of our house's previous owners to spoil not just our garden but land beyond it as well.

Once removed from the ground this is what five gravel bags look like, all bundled up and ready to be taken to the dump. These things are used by building materials suppliers to deliver sand or gravel and on each one there is a note to say that it can be returned 'for disposal'. But clearly this was too much for whoever put them there and since they were tossed over our back fence the roots of numerous wild shrubs had grown into them which made them extremely difficult to remove from the ground. And sadly in the process of digging them out something even worse was exposed.

We now have the job of picking up a mass of broken window glass which was scattered there along with the bags, the remains, we suspect, of a long gone greenhouse or conservatory. It is impossible to remove every last tiny sliver of glass from the ground but patient work spent kneeling down and picking the bits up piece by piece with gloved hands has produced enough to fill two large buckets ready for proper disposal.

Admittedly the land beyond our garden fence does not belong to us. It is, however, wild and completely unmanaged by whoever does own it. It is a wilderness occupied by a healthy deer population who do nothing to limit the spread of the gorse but will nibble at any tree saplings they come across.

Then, just occasionally, we see this, a raptor of some sort (maybe a goshawk) pausing in the shelter of what is left of the undergrowth to dry off his feathers after a heavy shower of rain.

The hill rises steeply beyond our back fence to a rocky summit 170 metres above sea level and we welcome the view we have of this, especially when we spot an eagle or two soaring above it. But none of this justifies using the land to dump rubbish simply because it is more convenient to do so than to dispose of it correctly and we are horrified to think that someone would do this. It is evidence of an attitude to the world in general that is ignorant of life in any form outside of one's own.

An odd couple take the lead

The way we currently live our lives, the way we get about, the things we spend our money on, the way we manage our garden, the food we eat, so many of these things exhibit how our behaviour differs from the way other people live their lives. We are, of course, in retirement so this of itself frees us from many of the constraints that working life imposes. A day that is governed by a particular routine in order to meet the requirements of an employer is something we left behind years ago and looking back now it seems that for us our transition away from some of those routines occurred gradually rather than in one go. Nevertheless the overall effect today is that we have become rather odd, so it would seem. Some of these oddities have been recounted here already - having an electric car and keeping it in a garage, riding around on electric folding bikes, maintaining a wild looking garden - but it seems that there are other ways too in which we don't follow the herd, things that it might not occur to us that we do differently until something brings it to our attention.

A news item that recently caught our eye highlighted the build up of rubbish somewhere when the refuse bins were not collected on time. One such bin, so it was reported, was for food waste, clearly something that would create problems if it were left lying around. Family dramas on TV frequently show food being left uneaten when a distraction occurs during meal times and we see the remains being scooped up and thrown into a waste bin. But we throw away almost no cooked food. Unlike as shown in TV dramas we try to eat only what we need and if this leaves cooked food remaining then this is stored away to be re-heated the next day. Waste arising prior to cooking - potato peelings, apple cores, etc. - find their way to a garden compost bin along with cut grass, unwanted plants (weeds), and even cardboard egg boxes. The compost bin has its own lifecycle (as well as providing a home for slow-worms) and the contents eventually become a source of nutrients for the garden. We choose to live this way because it seems to make sense but if those TV dramas in any way represent the real world then this makes us rather odd.

The way we do our shopping is governed, to a large extent, by the shops we have available in our small village. These are small and have only limited choice on their shelves but they are within easy walking distance so this is how we choose to visit them. We trundle a shopping trolley down the hill to our nearest food shop then once loaded we pull it back up again, the exercise being quite a welcome part of our day. The downside to shopping locally is the lack of choice, something that hits home when we do occasionally visit a large city supermarket and stand open-mouthed staring at the choices on the shelves in front of us. Driving to one of these places routinely is what many people do and since big supermarkets have large car parks then this is convenient. In fact these places are laid out in such a way that accessing them without a car is quite difficult. Public transport links are often missing and walking or cycling there can actually seem quite hazardous.

Something else that is often missing from supermarket car parks is a charging point for an electric vehicle, largely because these places were built before EVs became widespread. Charging an EV takes longer than refueling an ICE car so it would seem to make sense to park up and recharge your car whilst you go off shopping. Many would consider this line of thought quite strange, something which highlights the negative attitude towards EVs that we have encountered since we ventured down that road. The explanation for this is nothing to do with the car itself but instead it lies in the belief that a car without an 'engine' under the bonnet is missing something, a vital component that for generations has been admired and fiddled with by so many. Whilst it is accepted that things like windows and windscreen wipers have electric motors there are still many out there who cannot deal with the absence of a large chunk of metal that has pistons flying up and down inside it because it carries with it a status that is simply not present in an EV. Owners like us of such new fangled things are looked upon as being rather odd.

A neighbour of ours willingly churns out all the negatives regarding both electric cars and bikes and he sent us this picture in a message. Clearly he thinks that coal is the primary fuel used to generate our electric supply here in the UK. Not only is this wrong for Britain as a whole (where wind, solar and gas generate most) but when we look at Scotland on its own it is wind and hydro that produce by far the majority of the electricity and indeed there is a surplus which is exported into England. The last coal fired power station (Ratcliffe-on-Soar) ceased operating on 30th September 2024 and in 2025 the UK recorded its first calendar year with no coal power since electricity production began. Our neighbour's misconception is perhaps a symptom of the way the world we live in is changing in ways he finds difficult to come to terms with.

So if the way we live is regarded as odd, perhaps in many respects we are leading the way forward into a different world. Taking cars as an example we see the whole world changing course with EV sales overtaking petrol and diesel in many countries today, a change that has occurred over the last ten years.

Alongside this many cities are cleaning up, spending vast amounts of money on improving their cycling infrastructure whilst reducing the space for cars in general, and the popularity of electric bikes in recent years seems to have gone hand in hand with this. London is just one example of this as is shown in the graphic here which illustrates how nitrogen dioxide, produced primarily by high temperature fuel combustion, has declined. One might think that such a dramatic and beneficial change would be widely talked about and admired but clearly our neighbour never got the memo.

Bob. The sequel

In the ever changing world we live in there is one essential thing that has existed unchanged for many centuries.....Money.

The image shown here is simply what comes to mind when I hear that word. It is an album cover, for those who don't know, from a band who had a hit song called... 'Money'. But I digress...

Money is the thing we exchange for goods and services. I believe it may have superceded a process called barter. It exists today as a measure of value which can be stored and saved for future use, is supported by government decree and can exist as banknotes or coinage or else as digital balances which are controlled and accessed electronically.

Being a car owner for many years I have always had to use money to pay for the fuel the car's engine needed to burn in order for it to rotate the wheels - the whole purpose of having a car. I have little recollection of those early purchases, most being lost in time, but I am certain that for a significant part of my car-owning life I would have used cash, money in the form of bank notes and coinage. In today's world many transactions are done electronically, typically using a plastic card which communicates with a bank in some mysterious way and reduces one's own digital balance at the same time as increasing someone else's. Strange as it may seem we accept this as perfectly normal so that goods and services can change hands without the need for our wallets to hold wads of banknotes or our pockets to be weighed down with coinage. The fossil fuels needed for burning in those cars can, of course, still be bought with cash if this is what one chooses to use and one of the advantages of money in this form is that it does not rely upon electricity in any way.

Enter the electric car world (in our case, with Bob) and suddenly cash is useless. It cannot be used to buy the electrical energy to put into the car to make those wheels turn simply because the charging locations are unmanned; there is nobody to give the cash to. Invariably these places are situated away from other retail premises and seem to be run by remote national organisations with no local presence. In order to buy the electricity (kilowatts) needed one has to rely upon the electronic wizardry of the modern world to transfer money to someone unknown and unseen. How we do this might be slightly different at every charging location - there seems to be little consistency - but there is another modern invention that can make this process easier. Indeed one might go as far as to say that life with an electric car is inextricably linked to this thing - some would say impossible without it. I am, of course, referring to the mobile phone.

Again, thinking back to my youth, the telephone (as it was then called) was a heavy object made of bakelite (a hard plastic material invented in 1907) with a dial on the top which was rotated using one finger.

The telephone had a single use; it enabled voice communication over any distance. For many people today the device we now call a 'phone' might be only rarely used for voice communications but it has a range of other uses. One of those involves linking wirelessly to the car, especially those like Bob that use electricity to get around. Regardless of where he is, Bob is continuously being monitored by my phone and it seems I can even flash his headlights remotely should I feel this is necessary! Our first attempt at using a public charging point left us confused until another kind electric car owner arrived and advised us to point the phone's camera at a QR code so we could start charging and then pay for the electricity we were putting in the car. The 'phone' is, of course, no longer simply that, any more than the modern day car is simply a way of getting from A to B. Both have become transformed in our modern world by adding functions barely conceivable just a few years ago.

Coming back to Bob, we are still on a steep learning curve as he can do so many additional things that have little to do with him moving us from place to place. Many of these are hard-wired into the car in such a way that they cannot be switched off. The steering column itself has so many mysterious buttons and knobs that there is a genuine risk of touching something whilst driving that can put the whole car at risk. Then there is the display screen (described as the Multimedia System) mounted centrally on the car's dashboard. Given the narrow twisty roads we drive on in our part of Scotland this unnecessary distraction seems a rather bad idea but fortunately it can be switched to 'Standby' mode so that it becomes a simple clock. There is also the slightly smaller screen in front of the driver which has a mind of its own as we discovered when a large message appeared advising us to check the tyre pressures. On doing so, after we arrived home, we discovered them all to be at the correct pressure and it turned out that the system merely wanted us to do this and then confirm we had done it.

There is one thing we can take advantage of on our roads and that is 'Regen', a feature which can come into effect when descending one of our steep hills. If this is switched on then as soon as the right foot is lifted from the accelerator pedal there is a gentle braking sensation which will gradually bring the car to a halt whilst simultaneously converting the kinetic energy into electricity for the battery. The effect is small but there is a sense of satisfaction in knowing the process is happening. Some caution is also needed, however, because when Regen is activated the car's brake lights come on as soon as the driver's foot leaves the accelerator pedal, something that could cause the driver following closely behind to panic. Perhaps the next generation of electric vehicles will have solar panels on the roof and an exercise bike connected to a generator fitted inside so the passengers can keep themselves fit whilst at the same time topping up the battery. (This may not be as weird as it sounds. There are already roads with charging systems built in so that EVs are topped up wirelessly as they move over them.)

On a positive and more serious note, we are pleased to announce that our bikes will fit into the car, folded of course, and we have discovered that unlike in most fossil cars where winding down a window to let in fresh air also brings in a lot of noise (from the engine) in Bob's case there is almost no noise at all. Best of all we can plug him into our home electricity supply and programme a schedule using Bob's Multimedia System so that the charging begins at night when the electricity being provided by our domestic supplier is at a reduced cost. Programming this was not easy, however, despite my reading two different user manuals (each of which has over one hundred pages), but eventually by trial and error we worked it out. All this was to ensure that Bob had enough kilowatt-hours in his battery to take him as far as we needed by morning.

We have no intention of using Bob for longer journeys but we did recently use him for a trip into Glasgow, a distance of over one hundred miles. This highlighted another distinction between ICE (Internal Combustion Engine) and EV cars which is that it is best  for us to establish the mileage to our destination before setting off so that we know whether or not the car will need a top-up charge on the way. A charging stopover needs to be factored into the timetable for the journey - a twenty minute break from driving which can be quite welcome - and this way of thinking was never necessary with an ICE vehicle.

For those long journeys Bob will sit comfortably in his garage at home as we would normally use the buses which pass through our village and these can take us to a train station if needed. Both of these things can take us, plus our bikes, anywhere we want to go without the stress of driving on and fighting the traffic on our busy roads so we think we have made a good move in changing to a small EV. So far we have yet to meet anyone who seems motivated to make a similar change although occasionally we do get the impression that some of our bizarre behavioural traits are admired by others.

Families

There is an assumption in the social hierarchy of our world that we start as children, grow into parents, then become grand, or even great grandparents. Inevitably though there will be those who, for whatever reason, do not follow this beaten path through life but can still experience the joys that go with the grandparent role. For this to happen the same level of trust must exist between adult and child despite them not being related to one another. The trust might take longer to build but it is entirely possible and as it happens this is the position we find ourselves in since our own lives have not taken the path towards becoming grandparents.

Some years ago we got to know a growing young family, which now consists of no less than four children, and we have been a part of their young lives as they have grown taller and wiser, this being something that children do. We think of them as if they were our grandchildren and to an extent we fill that role in their lives since they now live quite close by whilst their 'real' grandparents live many miles away in the south of England. The trust that they have in us must be handled carefully, as is true in many other situations but the pleasure that comes from being with them is immeasurable.

Which was how I found myself teaching a ten year old boy how to ride a bike in our local play area. The bike involved, my old mountain bike with knobbly tyres and front suspension, had been at home sitting around unused for some years but after a bit of cleaning, fixing a puncture and then lowering the saddle it found a new lease of life in the hands of this young boy.

So how does one go about teaching someone to ride a bike? Well fortunately we had a head start since a 'balance bike' had been part of his upbringing so we started by discussing brakes - what they do and how to use them. Our first riding session was in the road outside our house, which is on a slope and therefore far from ideal, but with me supporting the saddle from beneath he wobbled his way slowly downhill as he got the feel of using the brakes to slow down. Next came pedalling, the most difficult part being setting off from a standstill. We took this in steps. First, balance the bike with one foot on the ground (holding the brakes if needed). Next, the other foot is used to lift the pedal close to the top of its stroke then place the foot on it, ready to push. Finally on the count of three pedalling starts and one might think the rest is easy but it is not. Each action requires concentration and whilst correcting a wobble with the handlebars his legs temporarily pause until he remembers what they should be doing. What he did understand from the start is what he called 'muscle memory', the idea that he could focus on doing one thing whilst another part of his body continued doing something else, and this helped him a lot by encouraging him to keep trying to ride, each time getting better. By the time we got to the play area later in the day he was pushing off without my support, using the steps we had gone through to get going and riding on his own with only my verbal guidance and encouragement as I jogged alongside him.

I have no memory of learning to ride a bike myself. It is a skill that once learnt at a young age lasts a whole lifetime without any conscious effort. The thing we refer to as muscle memory is what enables us to do both simple and complex tasks like swimming, playing a musical instrument, even just walking, and it can last forever. I had no preconceptions about whether I would be able to pass on my own knowledge and skill but I seem to have managed it and found joy in doing so. I look forward to his next visit then perhaps one day soon we can take him on a ride with us so he can master the basics of riding on roads and coping with all the hazards that go with this.