2024 - A Year of Re-Discovering Some Vital Attributes of a Happy Life.

As I conclude my exhibition for the month of May 2026, I would like to put a little background into the significance of the month of May. It is the month I was born, 65 years ago this year.

Then on the 5th of May 1993, thirty-two years later, my father died suddenly from a massive heart attack whilst at work. He was exactly sixty years and six months old...That was a devastating  Measuring time in delineated units such days, weeks, months and years is actually a human contrivance. The passing of time follows its own pattern. Sometime time seems to pass more quickly or more slowly. My good friend, and near neighbour in Bank Street, Glasgow, David Donnison, often commented how time could be cruel as one got older, because it seemed to speed up. David, was a lot older and certainly wiser than me. He passed away in April 2018, he was 92 years old. He had been a professor emeritus at Glasgow University who became a mentor and confident of mine nearly thirty years ago. I met him at a Labour Party meeting and he asked if I could help him with his drawing and painting. This was certainly a most humbling request. I began to offer tutilage in my subject to one of the best social commentators and policy advisors in our country. He would call round to see me, and we would go out sketching together, sometimes I would accompany him to one of his lectures. Eventually he began to use a corner of my attic studio. Then when his wife passed away, I started to spend even more time with him, and we established a good friendship, both looking out for each other. He filled the paternal gap left by my own father. We continued to be close friends even after I left Glasgow. We spoke on the phone the day before he passed away, he was terminally ill with brain cancer and knew his life was drawing to its conclusion, very soon. I got a call the following day from one of his family to tell me of his passing... This was very much the end of an era for me, which I found quite overwhelming. But I was committed to caring for my Dear Mother, and at the time, I was getting on with the new found role, as a primary carer. Little did I realise how brief that endeavour would be...

So, time, as ever raced forward and here we are progressing through 2026,  We do delineate the passing of time by remembering significant moments and events that lay markers and milestones in our lives. On 15th January 2024, some time around 4pm something catastrophic happened to me, it certainly shock me to my very core. I suffered a neurological seizure, which robbed me of about forty minutes of memory, and left me with a vexing question...What on earth happened there, and why? 2024 had found me in excellent spirit and very much looking forward to a creative time ahead. I was actually rather excited by a number of the things I had planned and felt my life in general was in a positive place where I might be able to help other friends and family. But I collapsed in a flaying heap on my dining room floor. Fortunately I was not on my own! A good friend was sitting at the table and we were talking about the icy conditions of that Monday afternoon... Next, I was aware of being asked odd questions, by a paramedical team in the ambulance, that had been called to get me swiftly to A&E. The crew had to establish what I understood of what had just happened and the extent of how conscious I was. It took several moments to reassert my mind and regain understanding of where I was. Then the hospital staff were exploring with questions what I knew about the events of the previous couple of hours. They all struck me as caring and patient people. I was reasured by their level of kindness. However we never managed to pinpoint exactly what had caused this frightening frenzy of neurologial activity in my brain that afternoon without the slightest warning.

... The medical observation of my condition required an overnight stay in the Western Isles Hospital on the 15th January 2024. The following morning, a vast and varied range of overwhelming emotions raced through my mind. I had so many questions to get answered, in order to make some sense of what had happened. But then the good counsel of one young doctor in A&E, the night before, recommended not to dwell on what had happened and think of the good things that I was planning and looking forward to doing in the months ahead. Only two weeks before we had ushered in this new year and I had been so full of positivity, about all my plans. The main focus of my ideas related to the work I still required to do for my exhibition the following May - like, three months away! Now, there was a day when I really thought nothing of creating a whole exhibition almost spontaneously! I called this way of working the double "i" process. An "idea" combined with an "inspiration". But right at that moment on the morning of Tuesday 16th January 2024, following a near-catastrophic episode the previous afternoon, I lay shattered. There was nothing of the energy that I required to be active, let alone spontaneous. I felt sad, worried, and very frightened of what the future might bring. 

All that morning medical staff were attending to me, and I learnt I'd be going home that afternoon. In the early afternoon I had some lovely and kind visitors, to bring some good cheer. I got a lift home from a cousin. Generally I was told by everyone to take things easy and get plenty rest. Rest and taking easy don't really sit very well with me, I like to be doing things, making things, fixing things, though it was only the middle of January, I felt time was playing against me, and I was slowing down. What could I to do to get everything done that I wanted to do... Around this time I became aware that I was having little chats with God. It wasn't anything to do with feeling lonely, that has never happened to me, yet!  I was asking for help and guidance to get me through everything and I began to gently get the ideas flowing again. I thought that it best to be calm, definately not to rush anything. More than ever I needed to be patient, and most of all not to panic.

The exhibition, that was to follow in May that year, (2024), was my part of a series of summer exhitions by four of us artists/painters. At the Comunn Eachdraidh Nis, in the former Cross School, a place which I was soon to learn was a beautiful venue in so many ways. Though the exhibitions had been booked there nearly two years before, here we were almost into February and still nothing had been created, not even a title. But not to panic. I could only take things easy. I did not have enough energy except to go very slowly. It was frustrating but necessary. It was very cold and wintery when I resolved to actually visit the Comunn Eachdraidh Nis, my first since it had been so beautifully refurbished. I was unable to drive myself but a very good friend suggested I use my entitlement card, and travel there and back by bus. I went off on the bus on my own, on Friday 9th February, not knowing what to expect. The Barvas moor seemed aneamic and colourless, then even the Mighty Atlantic Ocean was struggling to give cheer, this cold winter's afternoon. Sadly I was struggling to find any colour to inspire anything at all. Then my stop at Cross, I stood up and stepped off the bus. Well, I thought let me get and see what they have to offer! As I entered the old school, it was as if everything was switched back on. I found as bright a community facility as ever I knew possible, the staff were happy and welcoming, at last I had the inspiration I was waiting for. I was shown the exhibition space. I did a sketchy floor plan, and started to envisage my exhibition hanging there. I felt an overwhelming sense of joy. I thought to myself, "this could work, it will happen. it is going to happen now". I went into the lovely cafe, and had a lunch, then got the return bus to Stornoway. I no longer cared about the dullness of the scenary out the window, there were bright ideas now in my mind.

As soon as I could I was ordering art materials at the local hobby shop (sadly since closed). These fresh painting materials arrived very quickly, and I was painting towards my show in record time. The whole concept came in a wave of inspiration I even had an exhibition title, and devised a modus operandum for the creation of a whole exhibition. Keeping calm and disciplined, treating the drawing and painting as a normal contracted employment, spending a dedicated time on the exhibition each day. I managed to build a body of work for the exhibition. I knew that day in the Comunn Eachdraidh Nis, that I wanted to base the work in the exhibition on the significant places and locations in my island homeland. It was a special and private them, the first two completed painting were of North Shawbost and South Shawbost, where each of my maternal grandparents were born. My grandfather from North Shawbost, my grandmother from South Shawbost. The exhibition Aitichean was born. I was still having my little chats with God, and they were clearly becoming prayers. I was attending the Stornoway, High Church, more and more, feeling a protection and kindness, in the fellowship there. During the Stornoway Communions, I suddenly became aware that I was indeed ready to go forward in the church and declare my faith in our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. I was thus converted and became a Christian, on Sunday 18th February 2024. My initial steps on my journey in faith had begun and I felt wonderful.

I continued working towards my exhibition, with only one important interruption, a trip to Glasgow for an MRI scan, at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital. But the results were inconclusive about the cause of that Neurological Seizure.     

On Tuesday, 9th April 2024, I flew to Glasgow and stayed with my sister-in-law, Susan Galloway, she was so kind to me, even took the morning off her work to accompany me to the appointment. it was so good to have a familiar face with me to find where I was to be going and then to greet me when it was all over.

Now the little sojourn to Glasgow was actually most pleasant. Susan had moved from the top tenement flat in Kelvingrove Street, that she had shared with my older brother, my niece and nephew, She now lived in a lovely ground floor flat, with a back and front garden. Just off Paisley Road West, on the South-side, a five minute walk from Bellahouston Park, with its sports centre and swimming pool. This is a brilliant park, spread out over a high hill, the location of the 1937 Empire Exhibition, and the Deco Pavilions, and the famed Tate's Tower at the summit. Susan's flat was built in the 1930s, part of Glasgow Corporation's housing expansion of what came to be referred to as "the inter-war years". These are solid, red sandstone and brick dwellings, that continue to provide pleasant homes, in leafy streets, with grass verges, hedges, trees and well-kept gardens. Suburban Glasgow at it's very best. In the evening I went off into the city centre to meet some of the rest of my family. My nephews and nieces were all very worried by what had happened to me earlier in the year, so we had a memorable night out, very much in line with how I like to enjoy my time in my adopted home city, when I visit.

When I got up the following day, (Thursday 11th April 2024), I resolved that I was going to dedicate whatever time I had from then on to being positive about my life, the great gift from God. This would mean not wasting one moment, but litaraly being all that I can be, and enjoying every aspect of being alive.

I returned home from Glasgow and concluded the work on the paintings for my exhibition. I had sixteen paintings hanging on the walls. The exhibition opened on the afternoon of the 3rd May 2024, it was bright and sunny. Many of my good friends were there to support me, it was a beautiful event in every way, and I really felt so wonderful, it was overwhelming, in the best and happiest sense. I also sold eleven paintings at that opening, and a couple more later in May.

Some memories of and reflections on 2024.

Kenneth Andrew Burns
31 May 2026

My maternal grandfather Kenneth MacLeod (Coinneach, Calum, Dhomhnaill, 'ic Mhurchaidh) - Kenneth Burns

Kenneth Macleod (1892-1947)
Coinneach, (Chaluim, Dhòmhnaill, 'ic Mhurchaigh)

By his grandson, Kenneth Burns

As I said in the introduction to my last article for "Fuaran", where I shared some fond memories and stories from the life of my maternal grandmother Barbara "An Carranach", we can have a special person in our lives from the moment we are born who gives us such wisdom, guidance and kindness that it fills our whole life. This is certainly true for people we know well, and I was of course referring to the grandmother I got to know and love so very well. However, there are other people who equally shape our lives in a similar way, though we may never meet or know them. In my case, I never knew either of my grandfathers. 

My mother's father died when she was only ten years old - on 27th July 1947, and my father's father died on 26th December 1960, five months before I was born. I, sadly did not benefit from direct contact with either of my grandfathers. My parents, especially my mother, was always determined that the memory of both of these great men should be well preserved. After my father passed away, on 5th May 1993, she presented me with the letters that his own father had written to him when he was sailing "Deep sea" as a marine engineer in the Merchant Navy, in the mid-1950s. As she presented them to me she said "by reading these letters to your dad, you will gain an idea of what his father was like, a man I loved like a second father". These letters are among my most treasured possessions and I did capture something of his character. I am happy to be the custodian of these letters, and now the papers of my mother's father, given to her by her own mother, "Barbara An Carranach". These papers have been an invaluable source of refererence for this article and give support to the loving memories given to me from the people who knew and loved Coinneach, Calum, Dhomhaill, 'ic Mhurchaigh, best of all his wife, my grandmother, and his five daughters - my mother and my aunties.

My mother did not have very many physical things that belonged to her own father. But we have always had in our kitchen, his army-issued spoon from the First World War. There it is well used every day, his initials "KM" still visible and his memory is thus still alive and "literally" close at hand, the way my mother always wanted. Though she lost her father at the young age of ten, she had got to know him quite well and was able to remember so much about him. His passing had a profound effect on her and throughout the rest of her life she remained very emotional when thinking about him, but she was very keen to tell his life's story. I was a very keen listener. This man whom I was named after has been of very special interest to me, from my earliest years. I would now like to share the memories and stories of his life, as given to me by one who loved him very much, his youngest daughter, my mother, the late Barbara Burns (1937-2020).

Kenneth MacLeod, (Coinneach, Calum, Dhomhaill, 'ic Mhurchaigh), was born on 19th November 1892, at 50 North Shawbost. He was the third son of Malcolm, (1861-1949).(Calum. Dhomhaill, 'ic Mhurchaigh), fondly known as "Am Biùgan" (as it was said that Calum's hair was so dark and shinny it shone like a torch or beacon - am biùgan). My mother said he was a beautiful person, inside and out, was calm and serene. He was an elder in the Shawbost Free Church. His wife was Kenina Murray, (1861-1942; Ceanag, Aonghais, Choinnich, Aonghais Gobha). There were eight siblings in the family surviving to adulthood, four sons followed by four daughters. John Angus (1889 -1986), Murdo (1890 -1948), Kenneth (1892 -1947), John (1895 -1967), Mary (1896 - 1923), Dolina (1899 - 1973), Peggy Ann (1901 - 1923), and Catherine (1903 - 1989). I have written an article for an earlier Fuaran, about the two sisters who died so tragically at the former farm house at 1 Dalbeg, in May 1923 and December 1923.

Kenneth, (Coinneach), was named after his uncle, his mother's youngest brother, who had died a few moths before, he was born. My grandfather grew up in the close family and strong community of North Shawbost. Up to the summer of 1907, he attended the local school, at that time known as Shawbost Public School. He was taught an interesting and wide range of subjects, typical of rural Public School of the time, including English, Arithmetic, Handwriting, Laws of Health, The Empire, Nature Study, Geometry and Mensuration, Applied Arithmetic, and Navigation. This education was designed to provide a grounding in knowledge for future training and developing skills which would be utilized in career options and livelihoods. By all accounts he was fine scholar, with a keen interest for learning. This was a driving force which would lead to a life long career as a dedicated educator, teaching at every level he was always searching the best means of passing on his knowledge and skill to others. 

In 1908, he attended the Nicholson Institute in Stornoway, for his secondary education. This meant leaving North Shawbost to lodge in Stornoway at 39 Keith Street, with his auntie Isabella (his mother's next older sister), and her husband Donald Montgomery, and their family. He did well with his secondary school work, concluding his time there by passing Higher Grades in English, History and Mathematics. Other subjects he was taught while attending the Nicolson Institute, were: Drawing, Latin, Gaelic, Shorthand, Book-Keeping, History, Geography, Music, and Physical Exercises. He left Secondary school in the summer of 1913 upon completeing Class Six. He was twenty years of age, which may seem late to be leaving school, but this much the order of the day and was not unusual for the time. Then began an interruption with his studies with the outbreak of the Great War.

From the many and detailed papers relating to his army record, he was "Embodied", on the 14th October 1914, thus answering the call to serve in "The Great War", with the local regiment, The Ross-shire Mountain Battery. Like many of his contemporaries he had earlier joined up as a reservist, as confirmed by his "Attestation", of 23rd May 1912. It is interesting to note that he was using the address of his Stornoway lodgings, that of his auntie Isabella, and uncle Donald Montgomery, 39 Keith Street, Stornoway. Off to the war he went training initially in Bedford. 

He saw action at Gallipoli in 1916. He was a bombardier. My mother told of his great liking for motorbikes, developed when he rode as a dispatch rider in France, thereafter he held a desire to have a motorbike, a wish that never became a reality. 

On the 19th February 1919, he was "Disembodied on Demobilization", thus having survived the war. He was able to resume his academic career, enrolling in a B.Sc Degree, course at Royal Technical College, Glasgow. Here he began his studies, in Science, Chemisty,  and Natural Philosophy, (which included many disciplines of science such as Biology, Physics, Astronomy), Mathematics, and Engineering Drawing.

Ordinarily at this time it might have been impossible to know what his personality or character was like. However we have a little window on his nature, written in the fascinating insight that is the memoir of his cousin Calum "Safety" Smith, "Around The Peat-Fire", first published in 2001 by Birlinn Limited. In Chapter Six, "No croft", there is a vivid discription of the aftermath of extracting blubber and oil from the remains of the huge whale which had been washed ashore at Bragar in 1920. Its jawbone was incorporated into the arch over the gate to the house at "Lakefield".

"...My great-uncle Calum occupied a nearby croft and I was on hand when he was extracting the oil. What I remember about the process is his son Kenneth dipping a stick in the pot and carefully smearing oil on his fine black leather shoes, his father remonstrating with him and saying, 'These shoes will never take polishing again,' and Kenneth replying: 'Perhaps not, but they won't let the water in either. Whale oil is the best treatment there is for leather.' "

I can just hear my grandfather whom I never met, demonstrate this air and attitude, it prevails still in the family. What my mother referred to as Bolshiness, a sort of  "Well I'll have the last word on the matter, thank you very much", response. Though it is never said with rudeness or disrespect.

Between 1919 and 1922, Kenneth, was a student in Glasgow. Intially he lodged with his auntie Christina (his father's younger sister), and her family, in Shamrock Street, near the gushet with New City Road. Later, he had a lodging in Parliamentary Road. (Both of these locations now no longer exist, but have been removed by the urban renewal and motorway development embraced by Glasgow in the mid-twentieth century). Back in the early 1920s the young student Kenneth MacLeod, was still rather naive and not really ready for the urban world, despite the experiences of The Great War. There is a story that he was pickpocketed, as a spectator at a football match, losing most of the money of his first bursary. 

Upon the successful conclusion of his studies, in 1922, he had attained a First Class Certificate, Batchelor of Science Degree (B.Sc., 1st). Together with a Post War Training in teaching, which was the qualifation needed to teaching in schools at that time.  

From October 1922 to October 1926, Kenneth, had his first teaching post at Sir E Scott, Intermediate School in Tarbert, Harris.

1923, was a very sad year for the family. Losing two sisters from Tuberculosis, at their new home, the former farm at number 1 Dalbeg. Peggy Ann passed away on 11th May 1923, and Mary, passed away on 31st December 1923. The tragic deaths of their two sisters had a devasting effect on the remaining siblings.  

I wrote an article outlinning the sad stories of those two sisters which was included in Fuaran number 82, Winter 2024, entitled " The SS Metagama Also Came Back". 

But happiness was restored for the family, when, On 16th April 1926, Kenneth married Barbara MacNair, my Dear Grandmother, in the Shawbost Free Church.

In October 1926, Kenneth, took the post of Headmaster of Paible, Intermediate School in North Uist,

He and Barbara started a family on 25th January 1927 with the birth of twin daughters Mary Edith and Peggy Ann. They were followed on 25th February 1928 by Annie Mary, and on 30th May 1929 by Malcolm Murdo, their only son who died on 16th January 1930, aged only 7 months. A third daughter, Malcolmina (Mina), was born on 12th October 1931. The birth of his youngest child, Barbara Ena (Barbara Bheag), occurred on 17th July 1937, in Southampton. The family had relocated there, in 1932, when Kenneth got a post in the Southampton Technical College, the forerunner of Southampton University. Sometime in 1937, the awful legacy of the First World War became a serious health issue for Kenneth, when the tubercular kidney, which had developed during his time in the trenches, had to be removed. At the time he was given a poor prognosis with only six months to live, had the operation been a success. In the event he survived a further ten years.    

At the outbreak of the Second World War, Kenneth attempted to join up again, but was turned down on account of being medically unfit through having had life threatening surgery only  three years before. But he proudly served in the Local Defense Volunteers, and Home Guard in Southampton, for the duration, with the location a busy target of the Luftwaffe.

The family home in the village of Totton, on the edge of The New Forest, near the ports of Southampton and Portsmouth, would soon become a welcome retreat for the many island service men and women who would find themselves in the vicinity. Kenneth and Barbara provided traditional Hebridean, or Lewis, hospitality there in the far south of England. A chicken from their back garden, along with vegtables from Kenneth's well-stocked garden and allotment would be made into a good meal. He would lead the household in prayer, to complete the welcome. The kindness was well remembered for many years, related back by those who were so grateful for it, and the reflection would be made on those who had not returned, from the awful conflict of the war. An outstanding example of this hospitality was shown early in June 1940, in the aftermath of the evacuations from Dunkirk. The family awoke one morning to find a group of sailors asleep on the grass outside the house. Everyone was invited in and quickly a chicken or two, and fresh vegtables from the garden and allotment  were prepared for a pot of soup. The sailors' tunics were soaked and encrusted with salt from the sea, from where they had been rescued. All throughout the Second World War their home at number 3 Coblands Avenue, Totton, near Southampton was by all accounts a lively place full of welcome and kindness.

My grandfather would use the downstairs front room of the semi-detatched house to provide a place of study and extra tutelage for his senior students, who were gaining more knowledge, required as they joined the various services. But it had an emotional toll on both himself and his wife Barbara, when they would learn, in the days and weeks that followed, as the war progressed, of the sad passing of these young men. They were so willing to do well and give service.

In November 1940, the family home in Totton was severely damaged by a German landmine that destroyed other properties in the street. I often heard my mother's vivid account of this traumatic event. When, as a three year old, she was sat on a bed by an older sister and commanded " Not to move!" - there was shattered glass everywhere, and the place was in total darkness. Soon after, her mother, Barbara took her daughters to the safety of her own mother's home in South Shawbost, leaving Kenneth, at his work lecturing in the college and overseeing the repairs to their rented home. Again my mother often gave a vivid account of that long and oft delayed wartime rail journey to Kyle of Lochalish. Constant queueing and hoping for a cup of tea, missing their father, but rejoicing on arrival in Stornoway upon seeing the white hair of her own granny, Mary MacNair, who would come to meet and greet any member of the family coming "Home".

That time in the safety of Shawbost, surrounded by so many relatives, family and friends had a profound affect on my late mother, and laid the formative foundation of her passion for her roots. She returned to Totton, speaking Gaelic, and enjoying new friends in Shawbost.    

Towards the end of the Second World War, Kenneth's health began to decline markedly. He had a major heart condition and at least one heart attack. In these pre-NHS days, calling for or visiting the family doctor came at a hefty price. There was no financial help with the fees, if one was off work. My grandfather was a life-long socialist. He was a proud supporter and member of the Labour Party, and also of the NUT (The National Union of Teachers). As a child my mother remembered lifting her bike above the gravel path in the garden, so that her father would not hear her going to call the doctor when he was really ill and fighting to breathe.

Then the war was over. The family planned a little break to the "holiday hut", at Calshot, on Southampton Water, they rented each summer before the conflict brought an end to such fun. In the summer of 1947, they headed to Calshot. They had just settled in, cleaned and prepared the hut, when Kenneth took ill with a threatening heart attack. They had to return the short distance home. There on the evening of 27th July, Kenneth indeed succumbed to a large heart attack, from which he sadly did not recover. It was one of the hottest recorded days when Kenneth passed away. My own dear mother, was just ten years, and ten days, of age. Now, the bedrock of the family was gone, each and every member of their family's life would be different from then on without the influence and support of their father. 

My grandfather, Kenneth MacLeod, was a great teacher and educator in every way. He delighted in spreading useful knowledge to people of all ages, from young children to adults. Sadly he was only fifty-four when he passed away, and clearly had much still to offer his family, friends and a world in need of enlighted education.

Kenneth in 1910

Kenneth in WW1 army uniform

Below: the army issue spoon, now 111 years old - and still in daily use

Barbara "An Carrannach"

Barbara MacLeod nee MacNair
An Carrannach

We can have a special person in our lives from the moment we are born who give us such wisdom, guidance and kindness that it fills our whole life. For me that person was my Dear Grandmother the late Barbara MacLeod, nee MacNair (1903-1993). "Barbara An Carrannach".  I would like to share some fond memories and stories from her life.

Barbara MacLeod, nee MacNair, was the third of five daughters born to Alexander MacNair (Lochcarron 1871-1911), and Mary MacKay (16 South Shawbost 1875-1953). Alexander and Mary MacNair were married in Shawbost in 1898. They had met in Stornoway, where Alexander was employed as a master joiner, noted for his skill in the construction of staircases. In late years of the 1890s he was working on the large houses which were being developed for the growing number of middle-class citizens in the town of Stornoway. He learnt his trade in Inverness, where his apprenticeship had been funded by his grandmother, and he was probably still employed by one of the Inverness building companies which were active all over the Highlands and Islands.

The young MacNairs had their first marital home, a flat in "The Granite Buildings", on Cromwell Street, overlooking the inner harbour in Stornoway. This was where their first daughter, Mary, was born in 1899, before they moved to South Shawbost, where the remaining four daughters would be born. These were Kate (1901), Annie (1906), and Alexina (1909).

Barbara, my grandmother, was born 14th July 1903.  

Though life presented many challenges and sadness Barbara was indeed a naturally happy and cheerful person, surrounded by a loving and supportive extended family in South Shawbost. She often spoke of enjoying her childhood and attending school.

At the age of eight, Barbara’s father left to take a job with the Canadian Pacific Railway, the intention being that her mother and the family would join with him in Canada sometime soon after. In later life, she would trace out the very last steps that her father took as he left their home at 17A South Shawbost and climbed on to a cart to leave for Canada. She never saw him again. So strong was this memory that in later life, she could almost still see the footprints in the soil, a vivid memory that she passed on to me. In 1911 or 1912, they sadly received the news of his passing. He left five daughters, the youngest about a year old, in the care of their mother, Mary.

On leaving school at the age of 14, Barbara entered domestic service. First with the family of the doctor in Carloway, then as the maid and companion to the wife of the Arnish Lighthouse Keeper, who had just lost her only child. Barbara received excellent commendations from both of these jobs and went into domestic service in Edinburgh. After that, she returned to Lewis and joined a team of Herring Girls, which took her to places as far apart as Lerwick and Great Yarmouth. She was clearly a typical hard working and diligent young woman. Many people would refer to her striking good looks, and fine features, particularly her beautiful bright blue eyes, and thick auburn hair.

In the early 1920s, she met Kenneth MacLeod (Coinneach, Calum, Dhomhnaill,'ic Mhurchaidh) of 50 North Shawbost. They were married in the Shawbost Free Church of Scotland on 16^th April 1926.

Kenneth studied science and engineering in Glasgow, and had become a teacher. After their marriage, Kenneth was posted to Bayhead School in North Uist. There the young couple began a family, welcoming five daughters and one son (who died in infancy).

They were:
Mary Edith and Peggy Ann were twins, born on 25th January 1927.
Annie Mary was born on 25th February 1928
Malcolm Murdo was born on 5th May 1929, but died on 16th January 1930
Malcolmina (Mina) was born on 12th October 1931
Barbara Ena (Barbara Bheag) was born on 17th July 1937
None of these five daughters are now left alive.

The first five children were born in North Uist; Barbara Bheag was born in Totton, near Southampton, where Kenneth held a teaching post from about 1932.

The Second World War saw Kenneth and Barbara keeping a welcoming home to the many service men who came to call during their brief spells of leave. Here, on the south coast of England during the Battle of Britain, a traditional Hebridean home was kept – for instance, Kenneth would read the books twice a day each day. An outstanding example of this hospitality was shown early in June 1940, in the aftermath of the evacuations from Dunkirk. The family awoke one morning to find a group of sailors asleep on the grass outside the house. Without batting an eyelid, Barbara invited them in, killed a chicken or two and proceeded to make a pot of soup. The sailors’ tunics were soaked and encrusted with salt from the sea, from where they had been rescued. In later years, many of these men recalled the kindness of the Macleods. Sadly, others never returned from war service.

In November 1940, their home in Totton was damaged during a bombing raid. Whilst Kenneth stayed behind to oversee repairs, Barbara and her family returned to Lewis until the house was habitable again. Kenneth was a Local Defence Volunteer, latterly in the Home Guard.

In July 1947, Kenneth Macleod passed away, following a period of ill health, at the age of 54.

In 1950, our widowed granny had decided to move back to Lewis, from Southampton, with her five daughters. Barbara wished to be as close to her own family as possible and the Swedish-style timber houses at Heather Hill in Barvas, supplied by Ross and Cromarty County Council, were the closest available at the time to her beloved Shawbost. There, at number 18, Barbara loved to welcome friends, relatives and neighbours, a house filled with kindness and hospitality.

Sometime in the early 1950s, she took in her elderly bachelor uncle, Donald MacKay (16 South Shawbost, (1882-1958)), to care for him. Donald was a true old soldier, a veteran of the Boer War. He was by all accounts something of character who spoke his mind and she gave him respect and kindness.

At this point, I would like to say that it is a great honour and privilege to be able to introduce myself as a grandson of Barbara "An Carrannach", indeed a truly lovely lady and beautiful person in every way.

I have many wonderful memories of moments spent with her, from my earliest childhood, through every stage of my life until we lost her just four days after her ninetieth birthday in 1993. That was nearly thirty-two years ago when I was thirty-two years old, and I still miss her. Barbara Charrannaich was a wise and kind person, a life-long Christian of strong faith, having become a member of the Free Church of Scotland at the age of eighteen. She was a great support to all her family.

She was always there to help my parents, my three brothers and I. We were close in ages and first lived in a small house in Lower Sandwick near Stornoway. She came to be with us very often through each week. She was like another mother, so much so, when we heard our own mother, her youngest daughter (Barbara Bheag) call her "Mum", it seemed natural for us to call her "Mum" also. This was something that gave her much delight and she told everyone why we called her "Mum". Sometimes she took us to stay with her, to give our mother a little rest. I loved to stay with her, I have clear memories of happily being left on my own with her in her welcoming home in Heather Hill, Loch Street, Lower Barvas. As a child I loved being there, the house had a good view southward across the two Barvas Rivers, to the Barvas Free Church and the village of Brue.

The living room was bright and warm. The County Council had a policy to install in each of the homes they provided cooking facilities hence the Raeburn stove, there was plentiful supply of peat to keep them burning. At the window, a gate legged table would be set ready, every afternoon and evening for visitors. There was always fresh baking and excellent cooking. But it had been the last of the houses to be finished, and as such certain essential features were missing such as the glass cover of the temperature gauge on the oven door. One of us little lads had naughtily twisted the needle of the dial too far and broken it. But our dear grandmother was lovingly patient and found an alternative means to establish the temperature of the oven.

Her gentle nature was exemplary and her sense of humour and fun an essential part of her character. Sometimes an amusing thought or memory would set her chuckling and she would always explain and share the laugh. The stories of her own childhood and youth revealed happy times of home-grown entertainment and fun with her peers. Her relatives and friends loved to remember innocent involvement in pranks long past and she was known to be effective in creating the fun and had a special ability to keep a straight face.

I loved her home in Barvas, where Gaelic was the language she would speak to us. Often while I was there as a child, she would prepare to take us on the bus to visit some of our many cousins in Shawbost. The phrase was "We'll just go up to Shawbost", which I thought a little odd as it was a journey south and going south was usually referred to as "down". Off we would go with all sorts of delights in her bags, a variety home baking, and her wonderful jams, especially rhubarb or blackcurrant. I learnt at a very young age that we had cousins in every part of Shawbost. In a sense we were going "home", and I loved it. I also saw at first-hand what a greatly loved and respected woman our granny "Mum" was. Though her life had been filled with hardship and sadness. She carried on strengthened by her faith and always finding the positive in everything. A beautiful smile or a hearty laugh were never far away

In the 1970s both our family and our grandmother moved house. In 1972, our family moved into a larger home in Stornoway, and in 1974, Barbara moved from Barvas to Stornoway, primarily to be closer to all her family. For me this meant I had daily contact with her, seeing her on the way home from school, as she actually lived only a few houses away. This reinforced our special bond and I got to know her very well. Over the following decade Barbara enjoyed a mostly independent life, but then her health began to become a concern and eventually she came to live with us. From the mid-1980s she became a most special and valued member of our household as we welcomed the next generation when Barbara became a much loved and pro-active Great-grandmother.

On the 18^th July 1993, Barbara Macleod nee Macnair passed away peacefully, after a rich and full life, at the blessed age of 90.