The Green, Green Grass

No representatives of Claude Curly Putman looked on as I drove past this rural scene on the Germiston Road.  I was on my way back to HQ after I had been in past to visit my mother.  I bought her some chocolate, she told me she has just walked the dogs.  Earlier I had been through in town for messages.  I made up some whisky samples for posting to Inverurie.  There was an ornithological thrill with a whimbrel calling in the lower field.  Bernard is being very persistent despite not having been invited to the Lord Lieutenant’s bridge party.  The Cooncil have even had to cone off one half of the bridge.