The Wasteland

That boaty club meeting went on a bit long, goddam it. I had to sprint, yes sprint, along Shandwick Place to get the No4; for which exertion I was rewarded by being home in time to see George Galloway's mug on my TV; I see he's touring about with his 'Just Say Naw' roadshow. And he's charging money to come and hear him. Incredible but true. No standing out at the foot of the Mound for oor Georgie. I wonder if he does tricks like Jerry Sadowitz. Surely he must have a support act. I'm almost tempted to go and see him.
One good thing though is that I got a loan (Scots: a laen) of the Railway Man. What a right good read it already is proving to be. The morning bus can't come soon enough. Top deck, seat near the back. Orkney 1940, here I come.