Man Bag

A day of much skiting about. Off to let the dentist have a poke about, visit maw who was in bewilderingly good spirits, and pick up some boaty archive material. And also my dad’s old kitbag which may find service as a sail bag.
Then down to my old matey SM at Musselburgh who is none too well, but it was good to chat to him, and equally Mrs SM who is bearing the brunt of it.
Home, with the intention of strolling for a teatime pint. Lumme but Mrs nextdoor passed me a tin of curprinol to treat all the cut pickets on our mutual fence, observing that it was the perfect time as it was warm and dry. Dry? That was true anyway. A bloody dry teatime Friday? Not right at all.