The snow has gone for hogmany.

There is a sense of anticipation. Over the last 2 fays the town has filled with folk, all walking around in boots in the snow yesterday and today it is 10c.

The hotelks and bunkhouses have cars, the caravan site has campers and even in Glenmore, the campe site is full.

The festivities start at 11pm and it is about 4 years since we were last here at Hogmany. Everyone can do "Strip the Willow" and the whole street was taken with people in their groups of 8, twirlking and skipping to the pipe band.

Now there are fireworks also (poor little Pip, she'll not like that part) and stalls for mulled wine and punch, perhaps deep fried haggis too.

I'll let you know as I'll be there!

HAPPY NEW YEAR

The family estate?

This private residence is on another of our local walks. The grounds run into several 100 acres but are mostly owned for shooting and there are some tenant farmers. There are tracks all round the estate and one is free to walk through them (although not to shoot or kill pheasants).

Castle Grant has been over the years, part of the estate, a hotel, flats and now is obviously owned by some people who are lucky lottery winners.

My granny was a Grant but no, sadly, not the ower/accupier of a grand castle. She stayed with her family as a tenant farming family some 2 miles from Grantown itself. One of 11 children, many of them went off to Newfoundland to make their living and I do have distant relatives there too.

Granny married a man from a fishing family from Stornaway and lived with him in Birmingham to have her family (my mum) and only returned to the Highlands when she was in her 60s and remarried. She was first a Grant, then a Matheson then Calder.

Which od course links her to the Calder Valley!! Way down in West Yorkshire.

The carols.

I guess you might like to see the lights and singers...better photos than the reindeer anyway.

Christmas and real reindeer.

OK, it's a really poor photo. I took several, including one of one of these georgous animals close up but the jostling crowds made it a bit difficult.

Father Christmas on his sleigh had no less than 6 reindeer although none had a red nose. The 2 at the front and the 2 at the back with their babies wedged betwen them, presumably to get them used to the noise and crowds.

They were totally at easy with all of us patting them, taking their photos and cooing with love. Their fur is dense but soft and they are surprisingly small. Of course there were no Rudolphs, only females but they were shorter than my shoulder even at the top of their heads. Their velvet impressive antlers make their reach much longer and the handler warner us not to touch the front of their heads and to be aware if they turned round to look, an antler could take an eye out.

Whoops...too much about the reindeer and not enough about the torch lit parade and carols. Headed up by a pipe band (naturally), Father Christmas and his helpers then most of the town following with their torches and furry hats or watching from the sidelines before gathering before a small tent with 3 musicians to sing carols.

But the reindeer stole the show.

Pheasant for Christmas.

No, not this one. This one is too small and is for tonight's dinner. All you sensitive people, this bird was free range and killed instantly. The recipe is Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall and the pheasant is in season.

Ralph has plucked it this morning after 3 days of hanging. I "found" this poor dead bird on my walk and having learnt from the wild salmon that I had to leave behind, I now carry a rucksack and a plastic bag for occasions that may present themselves.

I may not be a farmer any longer but I am still a hunter/gatherer and wild food for free is abundant around here. Ralph had seen a dead deer by the road that was fresh but unfortunately at that time we had no freezer. Imagine how much meat a whole deer would provide for us and the dogs!

The large cock pheasnt from the butchers is costing a measly £4.50p which is a considerable saving on a turkey at £50, although of course we won't be eating pheasant burgers for 6 months after Christmas.

My sort of pony.

Look at the adorable Highland ponies, standing cosy in their woolly mamouth coats and long fringes keeping the frost off their eye lashes.

Then Tails, kipping on his heap of hayledge...ahhhh

Frosty Morning.

It was minus 6 at 8am and the paths are a sheet of ice. This picture is taken at the top of Dreggie, a steep winding road that leads to Glen Beg. This estate is a small one, 20,000 acres (and not an acre for sale!) and is an active shoot. The scaredy Pip can only enjoy this walk on Sundays, when they can't shoot and after Feb 1st. Today there wasn't shooting until we were nearly down the other side. The views across to the Cairngorms are variable but today The Hill (as Cairn Gorm is called) was clear.

The ski ing started last weekend, after the storm. We have ski-ed the area many years ago when it was a lot quieter. Now the price and the queues are reasons enough not to bother on the weekend, but I have my crumbling knees to prevent any downhill ski -ing anyway.

The best day ever in my brief ski career was on Cairn Gorm but going on mountain skis. We left the car park and ski tows way behind and climbed up and up, away from all the crowds and there was just our small group and our guide. It was breath taking and I will always love the mountains in winter more than the summer.

I'm no mountaineer though. So now, I walk around at 1000 - 2000 feet and ski in the woods and tracks (cross country) and look in awe at the beauty and grandeur of The Hill.