We plan to visit Beijing for the first time in well over five years in the summer of next year.

There - I've said it! By so doing, I'm mentally preparing for the not inconsiderable cost this will incur. Grace was a baby when we left and so has no memory whatsoever of her grandparents there. Michael wasn't even born. And my wife hasn't seen her folks in all that time either. In short, a jaunt is way long overdue. I look forward to hearing of any dazzling travel offers involving getting a family of four from here to there at minimum cost. I could do the slow boat to China thing, though not sure if my employer would be so crazy about the idea.

Swine flu is getting ever closer our door (work and home). Bring it on, I say. I'm tired of hearing about it and would just as soon get it over with. I may have predicted staff absences in my last post. Alas, that's already come to pass. Rest assured the RSJ will continue come what may!

After a super-busy six weeks of work-related shenanigans, I'm motivated to get back on to the blog to sing the praises of the Inverness Film Festival which opened on Wednesday with the screening of The Boys are Back. Small but perfectly formed, the five-day event is packed with films I'd really like to see (not always the case with film festivals) and already I'm regretting not being able to make it to the Japanese tearjerker, Departures, which I just know is going to be a total winner... Worth having a deek at the programme if you've no special plans obver the coming three days.

What a belter of a paper this week, even if I say so myself. Despite a rapid readjustment following a bit of staff sickness (and I predict here and now that all of us are going to go down with something or other in the next few weeks), it all came together beautifully with a bit of heads-down graft and good fortune. Love it when that happens...

"Much in the Ross-shire this week?" asked one old timer on Wednesday.

There is indeed. And arguably the strongest Page 11 we've had this year. Plus an offer you can't refuse. Particularly if improving fitness/reducing fatness is on your agenda. Plus the first batch of always-uplifting P1 pictures.

It's got cold. The heating is going to have to go on this weekend I fear. Hot water bottle broken out tonight and a definite shiver factor in the air. It's either that or we all move into the office.

Highlight of the weekend might well have been a soup and sandwich meal in Cromarty Primary School in the company of my daughter. Sometimes - in fact usually - it's the simplest things that are the most satisfying. We'd gone to check out the Doors Open Day and got a nice welcome from a couple of pupils who were taking time out to dish up school dinners. As a huge fan of school dinners (or at least those they dished out 30 years ago), I couldn't resist the offer.

I'm aware the school needs various upgrades (indeed one of the Ross-shire Journal stories I wrote on the matter is posted on a noticeboard within) but I found it to be charming and full of character. They've done a nice school photo collage sort of a thing whereby each pupil is pictured in a fairly natural pose in individual shots. Looks good. The broth went down very nicely, as did the cake and jelly. Our two then played, in brilliant sunshine, on the beach for an hour. Top day! Got in to see Hugh Miller's Museum, Cromarty East Church and a couple of others besides. Sadly didn't have time for the big house or The Stables. Another time.

The North Kessock RNLI open day was none too shabby either. Those lifeboats can really shift!

Autumn officially begins tomorrow and it seems everyone is commenting on the sudden chill in the air. I can see the heating having to go on before long. Was rather hoping to hold out til October. Bet my dad does.

Family tree research coming along slowly. Have already uncovered a family secret and am hungry for more. A bit Monday-ish at work but got loads done all the same. Sometimes you've got to grind out the results, as they say in footballing circles.

The issue date on the cover of this week's Ross-shire Journal will be September 11. The technological glitches which cast a shadow over its very existence made themselves manifest in the IT meltdown of 9/9/9. Coincidence? Well, actually yes. But few of us involved in its production are likely to forget the dates in a hurry. Agnes certainly won't - because, snakes alive, it's her birthday tomorrow into the bargain!

Let's not mince words. A system update instigated a couple of weeks back has been an unmitigated disaster from the word go. I won't bore you with the details. Truth be told, I don't even know the details. All I know is it amounted to a world of pain, a couple of very late nights and rather more time spent in front of this dockable laptop than I'd care to tot up. Bottom line: the team pulled through in backs-to-the-wall blitz spirit fashion and pulled a rabbit out of the hat. And a paper out of the printing press, massive late-breaking story and all. Hurrah! The words 'minor' and 'miracle' come to mind.

The meltdown affected the entire group and reinforced a couple of things for me. 1. How beholden we are to technology (and how helpless we can be when it fails), and 2. how staff are any company's greatest asset. That was the week that still is and the back of which, quite frankly, I shall be quite happy to see.

Documents have arrived through the post from my uncle Tom following my SoS for family tree information. My appeal was spurred by this genealogical challenge which I've signed up to. As I slid his research out of the envelope, I was immediately struck by a place name in the tree: County Tyrone. I have an ancestor who was born in Northern Ireland and I had absolutely tootly no idea about it. In a nutshell, I'm hooked! As Sherlock Holmes might have said, the game is afoot! Have a go yourself. Check out here for more info...

Meanwhile word round the campfire is that Ross County has drawn Inverness Caledonian Thistle in the semifinal of the Alba Challenge Cup. Now that's looking like a bit of a cup cracker in any language...

Enjoying a bit of Kid British...knackered after swimming...and awaiting teatime inspiration... 

Well, anyway, that's Monday done:-)

Ross County's 3-1 humbling of Highland rivals Inverness Caledonian Thistle away from home was the weekend's sporting highlight beyond a shadow of a doubt. Wish I'd been there.

The lowpoint, arguably, was spending £13.99 on 1kg of dried mango (the words 'daylight' and 'robbery' come to mind). Our two children are addicted to the stuff and agreeing to go and get some was very much the lesser of two evils at the time. The other involved much more effort and expense.

My daughter returned from playing and having tea with a friend who lives around the corner raving about the apple crumble and ice cream they'd enjoyed for dessert. We have a tree groaning under the weight of apples outside and, I have no doubt, the other basic ingredients required shoved at the back of various shelves. I'm also having flashbacks to apple crumbles from days gone by. MUST...HAVE...SOME!

Many moons ago I was sent an in-car satellite navigation system to review for the Ross-shire Journal.

I turned from sceptic to total convert during a trip to Edinburgh, when it saved my bacon on more than one occasion. And since then it has been a godsend on trips to the middle of nowhere, the back of beyond and a long where from anywhere. Let's face it: I love that little fella. And now they've asked for it back. Crestfallen though I am, the TomTom has served me well and even inspired one of my favourite pieces of recent times in the Ross-shire Journal.

And on the very day I learned I'd have to let it go, I stumbled across the most bizarre story since, well, this morning's revelation that Cillit Bang will be used to clean up a nuclear reactor. If Bob Dylan does sign up to be the voice of a satnav, I'm in!

It was, in cyberspeak, an 'OMG!' sort of a day at Scottish Provincial Press yesterday with IT glitches of the type nightmares are made of.

Given that our training session on Friday just gone by were similarly beset, I'm thinking I've had enough of them for a week or two. I'm looking out the old quill and parchment as we speak... It'll be a week of catch-up, one suspects, after losing much of Monday. At the Ross-shire Journal, we shall overcome.

In other news, the advanced application to the nuclear industry of a legendary household cleaning product is making me smile this beautiful sunny morning.

Technical glitches beset the planned all-day web training session at Scottish Provincial Press's New Century House nerve centre in Inverness today.

Never mind - it was a chance to catch up with some former workmates and have a natter with a few folk dotting around the office. Chances are it'll be repeated so we can catch up on what we missed then. Fair play to the training dude - not a single expletive on a day when eight million of them would have been justified.

Publishing to the web? Exciting stuff. It's just the thought of everything else that also needs to be done at the same time that prevents me jumping up and down like a giddy schoolgirl and popping the champagne corks. I do like a bit of training though. Seriously thinking about having a pop at a teaching English as a second language course. And a digital photography for dummies sort of a deal would be good too. I'm not exactly a sponge but I could learn a thing or two I reckon.

Quote of the week for me remains my daughter's less than subtle "What's wrong with all these people?" on entering a hospital ward to visit her grandpa.

A hard week slaving over a hot word processor and all a bit frantic in the run-up to deadline yesterday...but another one is out, bursting with stories, pictures and comment.

The job sometimes reminds me of what midwives do. We have 52 'babies' to deliver each year. This week's is number 33...

The website gives but a taster - check out the 'only in this week's paper' box at the top right hand corner of the site to see what's exclusive to the 'hard' copy of The Ross-shire Journal. Belladrum is behind us and here's what I reckoned to that. Next up there's Loopallu, a festival that falls right in our patch. I'm predicting another sell-out and am looking forward, all being well, to another jaunt out to Ullapool to attend it next month. 

The rain it falls and thoughts turn to the weekend nigh on us. If a babysitter's on the cards (hope, hope) at any point, I'm fancying a wee trip to catch a film, something I always enjoy more when it's raining. Here's what I thought about The Ugly Truth.  Anyone else caught it or get something better to recommend? I'm all ears. Quite fancy seeing The Time Traveller's Wife which, like many, I really enjoyed in its original book form.

If anyone has given the Black Isle Show a better run for its money, I'd like to know about it! A five-page round-up this week packed with results (I'm just waiting for the phone call telling us we've got something wrong or misspelled someone's name!), stories and pictures. A good team effort getting that lot together with Lynne cranking out the stories and Agnes doing a heroic task with thousands of names in pulling together the results. Phew!

A public meeting took me back to my old school, Fortrose Academy and, truth be told, I was less taken with the changes than what seems to have remained exactly the same over the past 25-odd years. Walking round to the Black Isle Leisure Centre (which didn't exist when I was at school), I passed the technical drawing/woodwork/metalwork area with a shudder. I was awful at all three and once had a wooden creation held up in front of the class as an example of how NOT to do it. No wonder I have such respect for joiners and folk who can make things to this very day... Why was I there? Check out the front page lead this week...

I've concluded today that I want to learn how to juggle. At around 1pm yesterday afternoon I felt like I was pretty much doing just that as another pesky deadline approached (and passed...)

We Twitter now, by the way. If there's something we're just bursting to tell readers of the Ross-shire Journal RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND, chances are that's where you'll see it first. Assuming someone has time to update it... It's another mode of communication - another 'tool in the box', as the police are so fond of saying.

Another huge one next week with Invergordon's controversial waste-to-energy plant up for planning permission (and recommended for approval). You can have your say meantime on the Journal's The Big Vote poll which can be found on the website and offers 'Yes', 'No' and 'Maybe' options - plus the ability to comment. The question is: Is Invergordon the right location for a waste to energy incineration plant? A burning issue? Very much so.

Next week's is already taking shape. Schools back on Tuesday (hurrah!) so better get those juggling skills honed for what looks like another busy one.

 Everyone has their own take on a festival and that's half the fun. A bit like a TV with 67 channels, you're faced with lots of choices,. though in this instance lack the option of taping something to enjoy later. Or not, as the case may be.

The children's area was really pretty good this year and so Saturday's visit to Belladrum - with nippers in tow - was largely spent there, barring the odd foray to catch Mr Methane or to find out who was playing Big Spender. Sadly it wasn't this lot. Mr Methane was indeed, as expected, a man in a mask farting into a microphone (funny for about, ooh, 30 seconds but it gets old real quick). Could've done without his potty mouth to match too, particularly as there were lots of kids present.

Arrived rather late on Friday night (I blame Black Isle Show mop-up coverage) and didn't really get into it. Even Shed 7's set seemed a tad stodgy - a band whose Ullapool gig from days gone by ranks in my all-time top five...

Watching my daughter discover the joys of a hammock and creating some wondrous artworks in the children's area was a tonic on the Saturday. The best thing I actually stopped to watch was a musical play called Clarinda about a platonic love affair between Robert Burns and Nancy McLehose. Remarkably it even captured the attention of our notoriously fidgety three-year-old son.

That's the best bit about these affairs: you can end up poking your head in a tent on your way to buy ice cream and end up stumbling upon your absolute highlight.

Courtesy of babysitter sis Rach, caught The Ugly Truth at Vue with Anj and had a good laugh. Just the job to fire us up for another week...

There's a quick way to get to Uig on Skye and then there's the way that we took. Either way, I think I'm now hooked on (a) CalMac ferries and (b) the rake of islands nestling off the west coast of Scotland. In a nutshell, I now want to visit all of them, despite an occasional proclivity towards sea sickness. 

We got to the beautifully positioned  Uig Youth Hostel via Ullapool because I was determined to let Michael (aged almost three) have his first experience aboard what he calls a 'ship boat'. In this case, the MV Isle of Lewis. I haven't quite worked out the round journey but suffice to say it doesn't do my carbon footprint any favours. I'll try to make up for it at the recycling centre. The ferry has room for not far short of 1,000 passengers and 114 cars and is an awesome sight for those impressed by nautical monsters of the sea. The kids had an absolute blast (not sure if most of the passengers would agree), a bonus for Grace being the presence of some very enthusiastic Scottish Natural Heritage boffins handing out colouring in materials, re-useable bags (carbon offset ahoy!) and info on spotting dolphins and whales. I'd say there was merit in having some sort of entertainment (infotainment?) like this on a regular basis. 

Hiting land at Stornoway on Lewis around three hours later I headed for the remarkable stone circle at Callanish which retains the power to lure upwards of 40,000 people a year a good 4,000 years after it appeared. My five-year-old daughter's theory - reached after around five minutes - is that it represents the sun. Dodgy scheduling on my part meant I didn't have the time to spend here that I'd like. I'm already mentally scheduling a return visit, during which I'll get to the site early doors to avoid the crowds and have arty fun with my camera. 

Tarbert on Harris impressed us all with the warmth of the welcome. Anj liked the singsong voice of the CalMac ticket fella, John MacLeod by name, who made us feel very welcome on our arrival in the fast-growing queue for the ferry to Uig on Skye. This would the second ferry of the day. First there was a chance to look around the village and enjoy an impromptu picnic. Yes, I'd definitely like to go back to Harris where I have very fond if slightly vague memories of a family caravan holiday back in the '70s. (The 1970s). 

The crossing was smooth as a baby's bottom and, again, the children found the whole experience very entertaining. Grace watched entranced as a fairly hefty gentleman snored blissfully in the bar and Michael approached a woman carrying a very cute kitten. I sneaked away to find some coffee before engaging in a spot of people watching.

I've always thought Skye somewhat overrated but had my eyes opened on this trip to many of the charms I'd previously overlooked. Amongst them are the mountains, - such as the Quiraing on Trotternish. So impressed was my daughter that she goaded me on for over an hour. It was one of several eye-opening moments on Skye and one which made me feel very proud. She was like a mountain goat. We were also both deeply impressed by Neist Point, though not for the reasons anticipated. The lighthouse is, well, just a lighthouse. And one that's off limits to all but paying customers forking out for accommodation there. 

The real appeal, as it happens is (a) getting there and (b) the stone stacks assembled higgeldy-piggeldy on the foreshore. Eerie and moving. I've not yet found a satisfactory explanation for their presence. Grace's response was simply to look around and then start one of her own...

I'm a big fan of the Scottish Youth Hostel Association and reckon it's a great way to see a bit of our native land whilst mixing with folk from across the world. Don't get me wrong - it can get a bit Big Brother-ish in there at times. But that's half the appeal. {Big Brother as in the reality TV show involving people forced to get along with one another (or not, as the case may be) and not George Orwell's more sinister vision.} If there's a better view from a kitchen sink than that from Uig's hostel, I'd like to see it. Germans are still loving the Highlands of Scotland judging by the number encountered on Skye. We saw sheep being sheared and, coincidentally, a woman spinning wool back at the hostel. The warden, Amanda, was doing a grand job of responding to whatever requests came her way, getting stuck into the cleaning with admirable zeal after breakfast and calming folk down following a middle-of-the-night fire alarm. A false alarm, I'm happy to say. Family eye-opener number two: Michael taking to the shower like a duck to water. This has not previously been the case. Go figure. 

We returned via the controversial bridge. I'd go with the ferry crossing any day of the week in future, illogical though that may seem. 

In the meantime, I plan spending a bit of quality time with CalMac timetables and planning a spot of island hopping...





 

Why did this pop into my head today? And what's the story with Sven? It's a tad more interesting for me at the moment as I find myself in the land of Robin Hood. Indeed I am nestled in Sherwood Forest right now,getting to know a bit more about Nottinghamshire and trying to get my head around that tricky accent. For the record, have seen neither merry men nor bows and arrows. Was, however, very impressed with a cool, calm and collected lifeguard at Center Parcs who knew just what to do when confronted by a hysterical small boy who had just bitten his tongue: serve him ice cream. Worked a treat, too.

Spas? Never been too sure about all of that malarkey. However after a guilt-free deal which took the two children off our hands for three hours (involving guaranteed fun for the youngsters), we tried the Aqua Sana thing and I have to say, I felt fantastic afterwards. Was a particular fan of the Japanese salt steam bath and there was entertainment value aplenty in watching the other customers roaming around in robes looking as lost and out of place as ourselves. They have an array of water beds in an upstairs foyer area which, in the interests of research, had to be tried out. I was soon engrossed in Taoist Secrets of Long Life and Good Health, which was just lying around. Some great wee nuggets in there. Anj was equally hooked on the latest edition of Good Housekeeping. Though I looked across five minutes later and noticed she was fast asleep. Now that's what I call relaxed. Either that or it was a very dull edition of GH... You know that saying about feeling as though a weight has been lifted off your shoulders? That's exactly how I felt afterwards. It has its merits. Anj now wants a Turkish Hammam and a Japanese Zen garden...

Another techie question occurs: why do majestic videos chosen by myself from You Tube embed themselves and play beaurifully here but not on Facebook? Hmm, hmm?