A Tug in the Twilight

Kippers for breakfast!  Followed by scrambled egg, crispy bacon, grilled tomatoes, fried tatties, and black pudding and white pudding and sausages.  Plenty of well fired toast. For pudding straight-out-of-the-oven croissants, my own marmalade and lashings of coffee.  Well, at least in a parallel universe.  Meantime I enjoyed my Weetabix.

Chopping logs, carrying coal, emptying the compost, watering the polytunnel, finishing taking down the remainder of the dyke, writing to the Kirk about the Hoy Kirk Insurance premium, contacting the Friends of Hoy Kirk Accountant, making up an agenda for a mid-may meeting of the FoHK, drafting an advert for a position in the said Kirk.  Distributing notes from an ad hoc meeting in a Stromness café.   I’m thinking of asking CMC if I can retire.

CMC has announced she’s whisking me away for five days in June.  It’s days like this you need to retire to your box bed.

Nobody informed me Michael Apted had died.  He was 5’ 11”.