Listening to: There Is Power In A Union (Billy Bragg)
I should be outside. The pigs need feeding. The hens need feeding. The ponies need to be put out. I still have 100yd of potatoes to lift. I have to move Kim to the new hut in the bottom field. I have to make a start on converting the old cattle byre into a stable for my stepdaughter's horses who arrive in a couple of weeks.
I'm not doing any of that. I'm drinking tea, listening to the free CD that came with last month's Mojo magazine, surrounded by dogs who, having been out for their morning constitutional, have gone back to bed.
Outside the wind is whipping around the house, the rain occasionally slapping against the windows. The forecast is for it to rise to Force Eight or Nine and probably stay that way well into next week.
It's autumn in Westray and, after a beautiful summer, we are again getting used to Mother Nature going through the full repertoire.
Yesterday started with bright sunshine highlighting views over a lively Westray Firth towards Rousay and Orkney Mainland, the waves crashing over the reef that extends out from the west side of Westray. The island at its very best.
Trying to get things done was another matter and by the time Eric came to help me put a pig hut together, the wind was strengthening and Mainland had disappeared as showers moved towards us. By the time we had realised that all three drill batteries were flat, it was time to get out of the rain and get a brew on.
The job got done in the end, the increasingly strong wind tugging at our hair (well, mine anyway) and by the time I went to collect Sally from the ferry, dark clouds were bringing an early dusk to the island.
The barn door rattled through the night (the pig "farmer" having failed so far to find a way of wedging it tight shut) so Sal is enjoying a lengthy lie-in.
OK, deep breath, woolly hat and big boots on, sod the weather, I'm off out.