"The Highlander" <mich...@shaw.ca> wrote in message
news:l39vs29o7r3pae9e6f9282l8k7252n3gta@4ax.com...
On Mon, 12 Feb 2007 00:55:52 +1000, "Adam Whyte-Settlar"
grawill...@westnet.com.au> wrote:
"The Highlander" <mich...@shaw.ca> wrote in message
news:vu1ts2lnu7rld4ha4ptitfq00ll8h6sfoi@4ax.com...
Chilling
Lagavulin (or any other great whisky) with ice means you lose a large
part of the 28 separate flavours some commoisseurs claim to be able to
detect.
Thanks for the tip - If ever I'm unfortunate enough to come into possesion
of the rot-gut I'll put it in the freezer for a week.
The mark of a great whisky is that if you add good quality water, the
quality of the taste remains constant and unpleasant tastes do not
intrude.
The late Lord Cromarty had a seperate tap for water just for adding to
whiskey.
It came from a burn spring a half mile or so up the Strath'.
Mind you, he only offered me decent whiskies that when one adds water the
flavours blossom - none of that west coast shite they use at the dentists
and in hospitals. The sort you seem to prefer.
A W-S
I knew him a lot better than you - his son, the present Earl and my
brother went to school together and his sister, the Lady Jean was my
mum's best friend - and if you got a dram out of him, you did more
than I ever did!
I know the present Earl better than I knew the old one unfortunately.
I got plenty of drams out of the late Earl I can assure you - usually in
Castle Leod when the Countess was out somewhere.
I was his nearest neighbour and we shared a fascination with trees and
woodlands. He often spoke on the subject in the Lords if you recall. I also
landscaped a fair part of the Castle Grounds over the years.
His step-son was a member of our mafiosa of failed Fettes rejects and
bitterly disapointing landed gentry's off-spring - there were dozens as
victims of the 60's back then.
I never got a dram out of John, his real son and the new Earl, though we got
along well enough I suppose. My ex of the time was (and still is I believe)
his PA as it happens, and his factor was my oldest friend whom I have known
from my days at Inverewe Gardens. Did you know Lady McConnachie (sp?) by the
way? She lived in the 'big house' at Inverewe and her nephew (now dead) used
to (allegedly) drop acid with me. : )
It was all a weirdly interconnected and quasi-incestuous community of
interests and bizzare family connections. All my aquaintances seemed to be
either Hippies or County and sometimes both.
Mind you, one of the best nights I ever spent was at the Highland
Ball, held in Castle Leod. Everyone dressed to the nines in full
Highland dress, the pipers playing and a pretty girl who was staying
the night with us whispering in my ear as we danced that she couldn't
wait to get me home... Highland women are so controlling... That's all
I've ever been - a toy for women on the prowl - if you only knew how I
fought to keep myself pure for marriage...
Now let's get down to facts - the only whiskies made in the eastern
Highlands are starter kits for Whyte-Settlars - oops, sorry, White
Settlers. When you look at us handsome west Coast, half-Irish,
half-Viking men, naturally you have to concede that only a fiery
whisky like Talisker will do for us, who modestly style ourselves "The
Lords of Creation!"
I like 10 year old Macallan myself - better than the 18 year old IMO.
The Glenlivets and their derivatives and OK too - bit too easy to drink and
generally regarded as a ladies whiskey I'm aware but bear in mind I'm partly
from Hampshire not the Cuillins.
Sitting around in Blairgowrie or wherever it was that you were
flogging diseased spruce seedlings to unsuspecting landowners,
It was at Duffus Castle eckshully, and it was mainly hardwoods.
I can
just see you sitting down to your half-yoking with a cheesy sandwich
and your wee carton of East Coast whisky and a straw to sook it up!
Not at all - in fact it was a company joke that I used to carry a picnic
table and chair, a little gas cooker, kettle and all the ecoutraments for a
decent lunch in the back of the Disco when out on my rounds.
REAL MEN (aka Hebrideans) use that sort of weeny stuff for back rubs.
Don't give me your crac about west coast shite and dentists'
mouthwash; there are too many connoisseurs readng these posts to take
you seriously. By God, if my mother was still alive, I'd put her round
to you to straighten out your attitude!
Tell you what - you send me a bottle of whatever it is you're killing
yourself with and I will guarantee to send you an honest,
straighforward, impartial appraisal based on years of experience
sucking back the finest whiskies! Lagavulin, Ardbe, Bowmore, Talisker
- what more could you want from one whom you know to be a Highland
gentleman who would never steer you wrong? What could be fairer than
that? And don't try to weasel out of it by sending me their mere label
names - put your whisky where my mouth is!
BTW, have you put in your application to the EU for reforestation
grants. They have several trillions to give out, and it has to be all
taken up before the year-end.
Been there - done that. About 100 applications in all.
I'm more into lazing about in the tropics and making a fortune property
speculating these days - it's a full time job in this heat.
By the way - I had my first life and death struggle with a ****ing Taipan
the other day.
Damn thing was in the kitchen first thing in the morning!
It was under the fridge and as I walked towards it to get the milk it
slithered out and took up a defensive posture in front of it.
BIG mistake.
I hadn't had my first cup of coffee yet, let alone my second!
Anyway, I considered if it was worth risking my life in order to get the
milk for all of two seconds before deciding that - yes - of course it was, I
can't stand black coffee first thing.
I decided on my trusty spade as a weapon. Not ideal for tackling a 3' snake
but it's the weapon I am most familar with as a result of all my lethal
battles with baby rabbits in the Market Garden years ago. It made me feel
more confident than anything else I could find in the shed at short notice.
Anyway, as I edged towards it the bastard made a dive at my leg at precisely
the same instant as I tried to cut it's ****ing head off with the spade so I
actually caught it about halfway down it's back. It was wriggling like a
chopped worm but I managed to keep it pinned down and eventually cut it in
half. There's a surprising volume of blood in a snake - I hadn't expected
that.
It was a bit of a shock to discover that being cut in half merely slowed it
down a bit and this time it was *really* pissed off. I took a fair bit of
frantic Highland dancing and another well aimed jab to just behind it's head
to kill it.
Three peices of still squirming dead snake stayed where they were (more or
less) til I'd had my two cups of coffee then I scooped up the peices out of
the back veranda door.
Strangely enough, apart from my blood running cold and every hair standing
on end when it first came out from under the fridge, I was icy calm until it
was actually dead. Then my hands started shaking so much I didn't even have
to stir in the sugar. What a start to the day - fair wakes you up having yet
another near-death experience before breakfast.
I've also had *four* huge poisonous spiders in the house in the last five
days. Only had one up to this point but the rain seems to have brought them
all out. There is still one in the house somewhere as the last one I missed
with my patent spider swatter and it hit the ground and (I swear) disapeared
into thin air before my very eyes. They can shift when they need to. They
can jump as well as sprint you see. I'ts really nerve-wracking knowing it's
inhere somewhere and you have to be constantly vigilant - no reaching into a
dark room and flicking a light switch for instance - you have to check that
there is no spider on it first. Nearly got caught out like that already. You
only do it once.
Another little surprise this afternoon was when I put on my shoe at the back
door. I *always* check for spiders and there never is one but of course this
time I didn't check for some reason and when I put my foot in a felt this
huge lump in the toe of the shoe.
Freaked out.
Pulled it off rapid style.
Shook it and this huge 'Rhino Beetle' about 3 inches long fell out and went
scurrying off in a huff.
Hope I'm not boring you too much with all this crap.
Better go.
A W-S
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