Sunshine after the shower. It is time now, I think, to move the citronella candle indoors. Autumn is definitely here and the candle doesn't help to protect against midges anyway. The only product that works here is Avon's Skin-So-Soft. It doesn't score highly on the nice-fragrance scale, though. Citronella does.

Today sees The Colin McRae Forest Stages, part of the Scottish Rally Championship 2008. McRae died a year ago and this is a memorial. Drummond Hill was one of his favourite places. Stupidly, I didn't go up towards Schiehallion today with our Berkshire visitors. I thought I'd leave them to get on with some male bonding, while I had a quiet day here at home. It isn't quiet. These cars could all do with having their exhaust systems checked! Part of the rally takes place on public road. I took this photo when I picked up courage to go and pick up my paper. The dog is fretting. The sheep on Drummond Hill are nowhere to be seen. I wonder where they hide. Many of the big names in the world of rally are paying tribute today and it is an important date in the racing calendar. It is fine by me. I am doing the crossword and look forward to tomorrow when I can snoop around in artists' studios. (Open Studios in Pertshire this coming week.)

Chop some onions and cloves of garlic, then let them sweat in olive oil while you think about what you will have for dinner, sipping from a glass of wine...

This is how many meals started out, many years ago now, in the south of France. It became a Pavlov's Dogs Thing. Summer after summer. My friend from Oxfordshire and I - sitting by a well-used chopping-board. Out came the onions. Out came the wine. One summer in particular springs to mind. Our cars had arrived, complete with suitcases, husbands and offspring (all male). Our task at this stage was to unpack and stock up on onions. The wine was literally on tap. We stayed on a vineyard and wine was delivered personally by Monsieur F whenever we felt we needed some. His housekeeper was Moroccan and she had many, many children. All boys. The entertainment was a given. A fortnight of football matches. England v Morocco. Cultural activities were few and far between.

Having smelled autumn yesterday - real authentic autumn - today Perthshire has been basking in warm sunshine from a cloudless sky. I set off to re-stock the kitchen (Patrick was here last week), first at the vegetable and egg farm in Logierait, then at the Co-op in Pitlochry. Arriving back home in the late afternoon it felt just like those days in France. I opened a good bottle of chilled white, chopped some onions and thought about what to do next. Summer arrived in Scotland on the 22nd of September.

It has been a wonderfully warm and sunny day. I have spent it washing sheets and towels after the last spell of visitors. John has watched his team lose to Aston Villa on TV. We set off for an afternoon walk on Drummond Hill just a little too late in the day. By now it was grey and felt slightly melancholy. Drummond Hill was the Forestry Commission's first plantation. Timber was needed after the first world war. The bracken is turning rusty, but we saw a deer, several squirrels and this single sprig of heather. You can smell autumn...

Approaching Linne Bheag (Gaelic for small patch of water) in Anstruther this morning. A rewarding day in many ways.

Blue Glass

Heat

Her kitchen faced north - a haven in the heat.
The door to outside stood ajar
And you could hear the wind moving through the trees.

She spent much time in here, my Grandmother.
When the men folk played boccia on a pine needle carpet,
Amusing themselves in the forest's shade,
She cooked their lunch and entertained me.

We laid out the table in the dining room
And it was here that my love-affair
With blue glass first began.

In the afternoon she ran cold water
From the pump over my wrists
And gave me the end piece of a cucumber to eat.
We pretended it was ice-cream.

The swing-seat was filled with tie-less men.
Braces over white shirts and rolled-up sleeves.
They sipped cognac with Vichy water from tall glasses
And told tall stories,
As we washed up blue glasses for the evening meal.
My Grandmother and I.

An Stuc

This shows the village of Lawers on the far shore, where you will find a restaurant with an imaginative menu and very reasonable prices. The Munro in the background (the one with the steepest slope) is called An Stuc. It was here that a close family member struggled the day he climbed four Munros in one go. It is fast becoming a legend - how he got stuck on An Stuc.



There are so many talented artists in this neck of the woods, and no shortage of good galleries either. One of the very best opened last month - Boltachan Gallery: www.boltachangallery.co.uk
There is a good article in a local paper in connection with the opening: www.commentonline.co.uk/art-media-craft/BoltachanGalleryLaunch.htm

Loch Tay in the late afternoon

The days are getting shorter and I eat my breakfast by candle-light now. Dinner too. Yesterday was promising to be one of the last days of summer and we set off to Oban to have lunch in the harbour. Full daylight! I bought seafood from the fishmonger, who kindly packed it in ice for the return journey. We drove home, using the quieter road hugging the south shore of Loch Tay, and were rewarded by this mellow, late afternoon landscape. Once back I cooked some of the langoustine tails (the Swedish way, I still have some dill outside) and put the rest of my purchases in the freezer. Then lit the candles. A 150-mile round-trip to buy fish is nagging my environmental conscience. It was so very good for mind and body though...

Scottish Native Woods are working in the area this autumn. You might want to follow their progress on http://taywesterncatchments.blogspot.com

The Rosslyn Chapel. Not looking like I had expected it to look. It stands under a canopy to enable dry conditions for the restoration. That book will have helped the funding! £7.50 and people queuing up.

Alex (in the centre) was here!!!