Don't Fence Me In

The news is full of people sunning themselves down south. Today it turned driech and cold. Some people weren't deterred from having a wee sail however, and Johnny and I helped a chap launch his gorgeous wee Drascombe lugger off the slip for the first time. Gawd knows how he'll get it back; we weren't for hanging about.
What else? Watching Scotland enact another 'if only' (gawd, rugby is a dreadful game as the pretendy world cup shows: not the world cup at all - more just the old empire and whoever else can be cobbled into it to make up the numbers). Later out for a posh brasserie eat followed by drinks at some pretend plush place in George St. The daughter escorted me to their amazing hidden smoking room (I don't) - quite the most lovely place. Little lights, a canvas roof and a cool breeze. I felt obliged to share her ciggie and enjoyed the dangerous outlaw camaraderie, ha. The Dalmore was bloody good too.