Blown Aff

Windy. Wet. Wild.

A leisurely Christmas lunch up at Stirling Castle today, just the missus and me. Very good it was too. Served in a vault underneath the Great Hall where Kings, Queens, convicted criminals awaiting their beheading, Rod Stewart, Michael Buble and, most importantly, Kylie Minogue have all sat.

We were due to head out with neeburs down in some of the city's hostelries to celebrate their wedding anniversary but, as we crossed the castle's portcullis, the wind and the wet whipped up, the brolly Samantha was battling with lasted another fifty yards before being snapped into scrap metal and, by the time we'd fought to the end of the car park, we were both soaked through to the skin. Dived into the nearest pub and phoned for our Hez to come and rescue us.

Now sitting cosied up on the couch with a hot (non-alcoholic) drink listening to the radio. On a Saturday night. Rock and Roll.