In our own experience, a lot of the changes to our lives since moving to Skye are like moving in time rather than in geography. The coalman delivers coal in sacks on the back of a flat-bed lorry. We have ashes to deal with, fires to make, kindling and logs and peat to keep in stock. The chimney sweep comes round. We make soup. Not from a tin but from bones, dried barley and lentils, and fresh vegetables. Our meat comes from a butcher, our veg from a greengrocer, our bread from a baker. We can go out without locking the house. We can leave the cars unlocked. It all seems reminiscent of childhood and simpler times.
Sure, it can be very nice to be able to turn up the thermostat on the central heating and feel effortless warmth, or to have the pre-prepared lasagne arrive with the rest of the supplies from tesco.com. But I can't help wondering how much proper life is lost in the process.
As a way of keeping in touch with friends and family, I published a blog during our first year or so on the island. It tells a lot about how we began to settling in, complete with loads of pictures. Being a private sort of person(!) the blog is now closed to general viewers, but if you send me a note with your email address, I'll happily set you up as as a reader.
