A typical Saturday morning; after some gentle faffing at home, we got the bikes out and went to Spartans; Alex still displays a dismaying inability to focus but stands up well in defence and plays killer passes forward. Oh well. 

After the quickest of lunches, we headed off up the M9 to see the parents in their new abode. News is still inconclusive from the manwhomadetheoffer. They'd asked for money by Friday otherwise they would put the house back on the market; this prompted a letter saying he was unsure about access, water and septic tank. None of which is anything to do with the folks; he's had 4 months to speak to the owners of the road, to the water board and to SEPA. Not piss the folks about for 2 weeks after the agreed sale date. Cockwomble.

I sorted out the phone line; then we rambled around the Roman fort; before we then swung homeward via the former site of Ardoch House; it's been about 30 years since I stepped through here last, on beating duties.

We had fruit cake and drove home; to fish pie and football. (The rugby was too depressing to seek out on the iplayer)