High Tide

There I was this afternoon, soaking up the solitude and silence (apart from waves) on the shore at West Wemyss, when my phone rang.

The Boss. 

He had forgotten I am on holiday. 

I had to forgive him, because his weekend had gone into meltdown after our local MP defected to the New Party (I may get sacked if I mention its name). 

I have had the occasional chortle about it all today. I have a little inside knowledge about where the skeletons are hidden at national level, but an awful lot more when it comes to this locality. 

Maybe I could write that book later in the year if the Boss is not re-elected. 

"What the Staffer Saw - A Glimpse Down the Toilet of Politics". 

My walk by the shore was a good escape from the house, with light exercise and fresh air, but... after months of being in Stay Local! mode, the tedium is really biting. 

The Blip. Carl seems to have become a bit over-excited by his native Wales winning on Friday night. It probably seemed like a good idea at low tide.