Waiting…
My body clock seems to have stopped. Maybe i need duracell batteries or something, not those cheap yellow ones you get from Ikea. I seem to be able to sleep anytime (although it takes me an hour or so to get there), and stay awake all night. Strange, i hardly see the sun these days, just the deep enveloping blackness of the Orcadian night. Im still looking forward to seeing the merry dancers - the northern lights.
Actually, looking forward is the wrong phrase.
Years ago when i was a child my dad woke me up to see the northern lights and it *terrified* me to the point that my mum had to sit up with me for a couple of hours until i had calmed down. Dr Who has an awful lot to answer for (and that weird series with the giant tripods which sucked you up and squeezed out your brains or something).
So even 20 years later i am a little apprehensive about seeing the dancers, even though i could bore you silly with what they actually are (dad being an authority on all things like that had explained at length), deep down they clang against some primeval nerve and make me want to hide under the duvet.
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The weather is keeping us waiting, strong winds turning ropes into straight lines to and from the pier. Seagulls whirl on the updraughts and spray peppers the concrete. Back on the farm the dead yellowed grass from last year is pulled right over, tarpaulins flap as if brought to life and the cold bites at any uncovered flesh. We are forecast snow for later in the month so its cold, and deep joy, its going to get even colder.
So we wait for the next phase of the cunning plan for world domination to take place. All we have to do is sneak around while the weather isnt watching.
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Never, ever underestimate a sheeps ability to fart.
