Unhappy Chappy

His Lordship is not happy. He is disgruntled and tetchy. He is out of sorts.
There was no Mr Nice Guy welcoming in the day with a smile and cheery greeting.

No, he is extremely 'put oot'. Why? Because the weather forecast yesterday evening indicated black ice and all sorts of road hazards today between here and Biggar where he and his pals meet to walk.
It is such a sacrosanct day in his week, that nothing is allowed to come between him and the communion with nature.
Only the forecast, which did look dreadful, and so the Biggar outing was cancelled.

You can imagine his fury to waken and find the day had dawned mild and sunny, but no Biggar in the offing.
The forecast was wrong and on the strength of that error, I was not alone in having advised against driving 40 miles on icy roads.

He has thrown his toys out of the pram and rattled the bars of his playpen.
However he has arranged to stride over the Pentlands instead, although it doesn't appear to hold the same appeal for him. His brow is that of a man thwarted in his pursuit of pleasure.

I have escaped to more cheerful climes, the warm kitchen of a friend where we will have coffee and catch up on news. And not a slip or icy patch anywhere to be found under the blue skies and warmish sunshine.

Oh dear I hope he's in a good mood when he gets back.


Should anyone think these boots to be too clean, let me say they are newly bought with a hefty mortgage and have not yet seen a hill.