After our shouting session of the previous day, and me having been really upset at the precious time wasted every morning, poor old Lizzy was up next morning at about nine. I couldn't walk to the lighthouse as it was spitting with rain, and after having walked there every morning so far, there being nowhere else to go, I was a bitty tired of the walk.
Watching Liz get up that time of day, face all drawn and very white, body language just shouting out the misery and disgust at the situation was like watching a bally sad show, as she would sit slumped over the table, her whole body trembling, her eyes staring straight ahead of her, not seeing anything. I kept out of her way after trying to talk to her and tell her how happy I was that she was thinking about me also, and seeing my point! The look I got was to say the least withering, and she did not even have to say one word, and I felt so bad for a few moments that I took my coffee to the sitting room, from where I stood watching the rain splatter against the window.I was not going to capitulate, as then we would only get away by two, and I was pretty bored.
But after the second coffee, and third cigarette, this having been pulled on with so much gusto, and puckered lips, that I could only wonder at the long red coal that glinted in the dark kitchen, she actually went for her shower, and came out dressed. Usually after the shower she had another coffee and cigarette before getting dressed.
I was pleased when we got away by ten, and we decided to visit the Arnol Blackhouse, and a White house, can't remember where, and see what else we could find. But this day we had much more time, as it was still so early, and we would also have time to visit the Broch at Carloway.
The black House was very interesting, as there was no windows or chimneys, and the fire was made kind of in the middle. Then we went to a White hose, and that was more modern, well, not quite, but at least it had windows.
It was quite nice, as the clothes, like her stockings and stuff, of the old lady who lived in this one till her death, was still hanging on a line at the fire, complete as if it was drying.
The Broch was built in the stone age, maybe for some wealthy man, or community leader, for protection. It stands on a small hill overlooking Lewis, a very pretty view.
This Broch had its fair bit of tragedy, as in the 1500's, the clan Morrisson took shelter in it for one night, but their enemies, the macaulays found out, and smothered them with burning heather.
There were still people living on the first floor during the 1870's. Strange but so interesting.