Goodness, Gracious, Great Tongues of Pugs!

Slow day for news, unless you count the detailed run down of P6 playground politics I got from Tess about being picked for teams at school today and at tonight's pancake extravaganza at Guides. Just surviving being a girl in primary school must surely be adequate grounding for a future job as a UN envoy, or if you don't like foreign travel but love four seasons in one day, a granite city community warden.

Back to Guides and for the love of lent who would put sausage sauce on pancakes? 2nd Newmachar Guides apparently. What on earth is sausage sauce? Sounds rude, but no doubt stocked by Asda Dyce. According to Tess it induced mass boaking. A grand night out.

Earlier, the wild Wednesday tour of destiny continued for Tess and the Northern Ireland bound two. Fortified by Tunnock's Teacakes and a loaf of bread for the ducks, Haddo House it was and they were off like hares to the play park and duck pond. Sam kept his ancient Ma company as she channelled the tortoise approach, occasionally muttering, "ooohhhh, me back, who's idea was this?" But he was rewarded with a fly-by from a heron, pheasants a gogo, deer, buzzards, wee birds of many kinds and at the end, a puffball pug dog with its tongue permanently sticking out, looking rabidly vacant and happy in equal measure. Spontaneous renditions of Flower of Scotland interspersed with the American national anthem on the way home, not sure why, maybe induced by the Tunnock's Teacakes "essence of Scotland secret ingredient" hitting our blood streams.

Rounding off the day, Fergus Fish Finger has just gifted me a dead mouse. Lucky me. Not so lucky mouse. Bad cat.

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