Sunday papers

As a couple of people have challenged questioned my ability to add interiors to the new Port Appin cottages I thought I'd take them up on it.

In this little cameo Wee'un MacReal is reading his Sunday paper.  He only buys two a year but reads them over and over and since his operation he doesn't realise he's read them before.  His wife goes down to the shop with the paper money but buys tabs, has a game of housey, a bottle of Sweet Heart Stout or three and wastes the rest on liquorice root and aniseed balls for the auld fella.  She says since he lost his teeth (after a bumpy ride on the Ring of Brodgar late night bus) it strengthens his gums.  As the paper shop is 17 miles away and needs two ferries to get there it's a canny break for her and the walk does her good.  Sometimes she's away all night.  

The Newspaper Federation rep on the island is not happy about his member's loss of income.