The Cult

A happy start to a sunny (almost) warm day - over at the boatyard doing the tasks which really ought to have been done before the cold weather. Power washing and barnacle removing amongst them. Happy indeed is the man in overalls with barnacle spatters over his face. And like the migratory birds returning from warmer climes, there was Jim and Crawford, and Denis, Paul, Robert, Andy and Jack. Happy bletherers.
Later I popped in to the daughter and she passed a book to me - the right riveting read that is the history of Balerno Church which had somehow come into her possession at the maw’s funeral. And there’s a paragraph mentioning my grandfather, the esteemed Mungo. Except he’s described, rather than as a worthy, as a, ‘well known local personality.’ I’m sure this hides a multitude. I may start looking to my own epilogue and start cultivating a personality, trusting that it’s not too late. Though it may be for the Kirk.