Guess who is coming for breakfast?

Photo:  Rusty, for that is the name I have given this pheasant who comes every morning for his breakfast, is a very slow eater, much to the chagrin of the small birds who have to wait their turn.
 
While in town this afternoon I notice a cluster of women gathered around a young man in full Highland dress. His thin stark white legs stand out amongst the rest of us muffled up against the freezing weather.

“Aren’t you cold?”  said I, sensing a blip opportunity.
“That’s what we all asked,” chorus the  gathered crowd.
“Are you going somewhere special?” 

I couldn’t think of anything in Stirling that would warrant full Highland regalia on a cold November afternoon.
“ Yes- the Czech republic. And I’ve got my bagpipes with me too.” 
He lifted his case for us all to see.

“ You will be a sensation”, I promise. Before I could pursue this further a taxi arrived to take him to the airport.

Pity. That was a blip opportunity missed.