Much Ado and Gossip

Today was a long, eventful tale of achieving loads of errands before 10am, including being treated by unexpected kindness by a couple in a shop, paying it forward to the car wash mannie, being given an impromptu gift from a stranger ...okay, okay so it was a car freshener from the car wash mannie but it made me smile ...and jump.... as he suddenly opened my door, threw it in and shouted MERRY CHRISTMAS just before the water canons started. Then after all this I was foiled by some early morning miscomunication and found myself locked out.

I cunningly remembered mum was taking a pal to Parkhill. An interception pre-fine piece intake to borrow her spare key might just do the trick. Unusually (for me) the plan came together and I met them as they were arriving. They persuaded me to join them after my faux protests at having too much to do feebled into nothing. So join them I did.

Now this pal of mum's happened to be Miss Marshall, my "O" grade music teacher, who I shall always call Miss Marshall, nae by her first name, Dot, cos she was my teacher innit. Anyways, topics were wide ranging but fairly lingered when it came to our hot drink fuelled critique of BBC morning news presenters. So obviously the halcyon days of Bill and Sian were the best (that's when I last tuned in, admitedly). Awww, Bill and his bees and the lovely Sian. Then there's the chalk to Bill and Sian's cheese by way of that Charlie Stayt and the strictly dancing Naga. These two are way too ego full to stomach. Oh but we love Steph (Who Doesn't?, as she brings northern accented economics to the world) and we also like Louise Minchin. As for the late crew, we detest Fiona Bruce (my mum's blood pressure rises when you mention her name, "That woman ruined the antiques roadshow for me she did!" she growled, in between cheese scone mouthfuls). We love a bit of reassuring Hugh (again, who doesn't?) and obviously have the most respect for the consistently professional and emminently listenable Mishal Hussain. We didn't even mention Jackie Skeletor Bird, she's like he who cant be named.

Then we started on local pantomime villains, Willie Young and Barney Crocket, quickly followed by taking that Ruth Davidson and the recent parade of Labour leaders to task. Ex teachers don't mince their words when it comes to pointing out the misjudgements and incompetence of politicians.

But there was no more time to tear strips off the not great and bad, so I paid for their fine pieces and headed home to engage in house cleaning warfare. Because Christmas is coming!!