Bibs

I have spent most of the day trying to shovel fog away from the door.  I even tried parcelling some of it up and posting it to Valparaiso - at one time Pablo Neruda used to dream of fog.  And, in case any of my Chilean listeners are online, I have to clarify that it started with a haar but became a very dense fog.  Low IQ.  Couldn’t tie its own shoe lacers.

We took Sybil and Graeme to the Orphir Kirk Café, absolutely mobbed again.  Things weren’t helped when CMC’s sister came along (to pick up her smoked fish) and she informed us that the sun is splitting the kippers in Kirkwall, everyone’s got shorts on etc.

William Hill is paying out 100/1 on Bibs on a dyke.