Home Sweet Home

Home is the sailor, home from the sea
And the hunter home from the hill.
(Robert Louis Stevenson)

It's good to have a short holiday break, but it's lovely to get home to the familiar.
And the familiar on a Saturday morning is usually a sea of little boys and girls playing football on the Meadows with patient adoring fathers and mothers on the sidelines cheering on and exhorting the youngsters to greater endeavour.

However it's the Edinburgh 'Tattie Howking' holiday week so the school children are absent, but instead there is a peculiar ball game taking part outside my window.
It looks to be a girls' touch rugby match using a round ball, and with a variable number a side.
It seems a much better form of rugby for the more delicate female form; all that heavy tackling in the original game would seem to be at odds with fleshy protuberances in the more generously endowed females.

With rather inclement weather on offer this afternoon I'm looking forward to a visit from daughter# 1 and Magpie.
There is much news to catch up on, with a bottle of wine thoughtfully put to cool in the fridge by his Lordship, who will of course be billeted behind The Door.