A Great Day to be a Buttercup

A blissful Orkney day of very warm sunshine and proud buttercups.  Hardly a cloud to be seen; Scapa Flow was so flat that we could have walked across it to Flotta.  Maybe someone attempted it.  There were reports of solar panels self-combusting.

The Current Mrs. Creel went across to pick up Sybil and Graeme for the Orphir Community Café.  Meantime I walked up to the Kirk in a wave of heat.  Even Judith Chalmers   (the thinking man’s kipper) would have struggled.

At the Kirk the Rev (Pa) Prentice brought me up to speed with his regime that is gradually helping his health.  He has a long road ahead but he is full of resolve.  He also spoke about the Finstown Parish Plumber.  Pa’s thoughts are that the Finstown Parish Plumber will be much disciplined and strictly stick to the regime that has been proscribed by his medical advisor.  The Plumber also has a long road ahead but he will pull through.  The Rev P apologised to me because he had forgotten to take along a copy of the New Testament in Doric - I feel a test coming on.

When we leave the house we never lock the door.  It was a true bonus today because when we got home there were half a dozen eggs on the table and an envelope containing £216 in cash.  Minutes later the postie arrived with another half a dozen eggs, oh and a letter from Eberdeen.  Whilst the postie was chatting, the fishman turned up and CMC bought some partans and fish.  The postie even bought some fish. 

After walking home from the Kirk I realised the heat had truly affected my brain.  I consequently took Marion out to See Sheila Fleet at her Tankerness workshop.  After trials of many precious metals and a variety of more precious stones I commissioned her to make a ring.  During discussions I had to have a snort of my powdered narwhal horn.  I asked SF if I could sit down when she told me the price.  She took it on the chin and even went and fetched a seat. 

What referendum?  When I went to vote the two invigilating lassies were nonplussed when I asked why Jo Grimond’s name wasn’t on the ballot paper. 
Roll on deodorant.