Memories

The arrival of the Glastonbury tickets! Oh Lordy so that sent us scuttling about examining sleeping bags and such like before dropping in to Tiso’s.
An enjoyable few hours thereafter going through mum’s old diaries, extracting morsels and even three letters I’d had published in the Scotsman in the late 80s. What an opinionated gasbag I was.
Then along to 145 for a wee soirée to meet some new neighbours - Alex and Isla. Yet more womenfolk. I tell you, men are as rare as hens teeth down our way. My replacement value must be rocketing, I guess.
Finally though, a message from cousin Sue that old uncle Fred is only just hanging on. A poignant one given how much he figured in the diaries. As mum wrote, June 20th, 1979: “up to Fred and Sheila’s this evening for a sausage barbecue. Home excessively inebriated. Enjoy the summer while it’s here.”
What bad examples they all were.