Day 4 -cabin adventure

Our last day with a hot tub, oh how much better would life be if I had a hot tub
in my back garden. Actually, scratch that, how much better would life be if I
lived in a log cabin, next to loch with a hot tub.

Talking of which I'm trying to squirt holly with the little rubber ducky that's
floating around in the tub and catch Connie a stoater in the eye. Oops

Scrambled eggs and smoked salmon for breakfast but we are interrupted by Liz (my dads neighbour) phoning to say that she heard someone in dads house the night before.

So you didn't phone the police then Liz, you waited a full twelve hours later
and phoned someone a hundred miles away from the property. Well done, this is a
new level of neighborhood watch. It's called the delayed response unit.

I can see the police report now, so tell me Liz you actually heard the burglars
rummaging around upstairs but you thought you would wait until they had filled
the van and then potentially drove across most of the country in the space of
time that you took you to phone someone a hundred miles away not connected with any law enforcement agencies.

Luckily it was dad doing the prowling as he is no longer marooned in Portugal
but that's not the point. Besides, any burglars would probably have felt sorry
for him and left him something or decorated his living room. Oh and while your
there lads any chance of shifting that sofa, cheers!

We pack up and leave as we have to be checked out by 10am or they throw you in
the loch.

On the way home, we stop in at the antiques place at Buchany where Connie
completely ignores my insistence that we buy something made of oak and instead
buys an over priced copper and brass coal scuttle for our log burning stove,
aparently it has the look that she is after.

Eric and Kaye part company with us here, last seen heading east.

Got home to find a very large and very dead pheasant in my back garden, very
topical considering our weekend encounter with the same. This would have been ok except there wasnt much left of it apart from the wings and one foot.

So I'm on with rubber gloves, not the mechanics ones or the marigolds, more the
cavity search medical type and have to pick up what's left of the beast.

Now, I remember as a child being chased by my father with a chickens claw while
he pulled the little chickens claw tendons to make the claw clench and being
absolutely terrified.

So keeping this in mind I did not miss the opportunity to traumatize my own
children and blame it on Papa.

Talking of father, we finally manage to catch him on the phone after a full
twenty four hours of trying and confirm that he had a lovely time and hasn't
actually been burgled, which is a relief.

Holly's response to his phone call was priceless though "oh, so he is alive
then"

Clearly she must be inheriting my droll sense of humour.