We are in the season of soggy towels. As the clock approaches a quarter to five Duffy takes up her place on the lawn waiting  for the return of her beloved boys. When she sees Clifford’s school bus approaching her tail starts wagging ten to the dozen and she gets up off the lawn and runs to the back door to welcome them home. Then there is the bang and crash of the door as sky high miles of boy enter and heavy school bags are dumped and then the call of “Hi Mum.” Then the sound of the fridge and cupboard doors being opened as four pints of milk and three packets of biscuits disappear into bodies where skin grips to the bones. Then the pounding on the stairs .. up .. and down .. and then the call “we’re off swimming” and then the bang of the door again and if one is quick enough one can see orange helmets hurtling down the drive as they sail towards the endless, deep pools of the Braan. Boys and bikes in perfect harmony. Duffy resumes her waiting Dinner is delayed as we await the return.
In the morning after the crashes and bangs of the departure for school I look around .. and there they are .. the soggy towels. I hand out awards. Gold medals to the towels that have made it to the wash basket. Well done. Silver medal to those towels that have at least made it out of the bag. Bronze medal and a raised eyebrow to those towels still in the rucksack dumped somewhere. However, secretly, I’m cheering for the soggy towel season. It means exams are over. That the routine of the school bus will pause for a while. There is time to sharpen pencils and enjoy catching up with people at the Highland Games. Time to plan what we might enter for the Horty Society (Remember, red and white potatoes do not count as two kinds of vegetables to those planning to enter class 2n). Time to chat to the roses and ask the newly planted Sally Holmes if she is coping with the heat. Time to sit on the banks of the Braan with a book and remember we’ve brought all those soggy towels upon us. What with all the picnics and paddles over the years. Which reminds me, it’s probably time to take Duffy out on her walk. I think we’ll wander down to the river, so she can have a quick dip and cool down after overheating lying outside waiting for the boys. Now where have I put those dog towels?

Sally Robertson

I love this time of year. The trees and plants are bursting into life, new born deer are joining our ever increasing herds in the Lunan Valley and young birds are fledging causing headaches for their worried parents. I guess that their problems aren’t too dissimilar to our own really. The children will be starting their summer holidays and some will be looking forward to starting high school or University in the coming months.
Can you remember that the summer holidays seemed to last forever when you were small? I must be old as the time just seems to fly by these days.
My first year as one of your Strathtay councillors has gone in the blink of an eye, it has been extremely busy but very rewarding.
We recently set the Council’s Capital budget. The setting of this budget had been delayed while we awaited the outcome of the Tay Cities deal from the Scottish Government. Sadly there was still no settlement at the time of writing this. Capital expenditures are expenses which will not be incurred regularly and includes things like a major road improvements or the purchase of significant assets which have a productive value. As you would expect from differing political groups, there was a healthy debate with some winners and some losers. Amongst other things, the administration have included £20M for structural maintenance, (this includes roads, bridges etc). £1.5M towards play parks and £1.35M for Road safety as well as an investment of £50M to replace Perth High School.
Now that the weather is nicer I can regularly be found walking my dogs along the banks of the Tay around Dunkeld or sitting in the beer garden at the Atholl arms or Taybank. If you have any questions then please do not hesitate to stop me for a chat or alternatively give me a call.

Councillor Ian James

I was struck by the article on page 8 saying that our Birnam Oak is 500 years old. It set me thinking – what was happening in 1518 when our trusty tree had only just popped out of her acorn? I dusted down my old copy of Wikipedia and you’ll never guess what we were up to in 1518? Yes, my friends, we were at it again – it turns out that dear old Cardinal Wolsey was busy on our behalf trying to make a European Pact – The Treaty of London. The Treaty was a non-aggression pact between European nations who agreed not to attack one another and come to the aid of any that were under attack – particularly in response to the rising power of the Ottoman Empire which was encroaching into the Balkans. Wolsey was very keen on making lasting peace and persuaded Henry to avoid war and take a more diplomatic route in financial affairs. Talk about history repeating itself. So, for those of you worried about Brexit let me tell you what happened to the trusty Treaty of London. Well they signed the Treaty but appears it didn’t last very long. Wars broke out a few years later including between Denmark and Sweden and between an alliance of England and Spain against France. So, there you have it – don’t get too worried about whether we leave the customs union or not – soon we’ll be doing it all over again anyway. Ah me – the things that tree has seen. Let’s not forget that when she was a mere 100 years old she managed to survive being chopped down by Malcolm in his attack on Macbeth at Dunsinane Hill. That must have been a bit nerve wracking to say the least. Next time you are down on the footpath, go up to our dear old oak and put your ear to her great heart and see if she will tell you anymore of the things she has seen and heard. Or maybe just listen to the rustle as she shakes her head and laughs as she watches us doing the same things over and over again. Will we ever learn? European Union … in or out? Which year is this?

Sally Robertson