The Township at Peace

Word filtering through indicates that the contretemps between Mrs. McLeod and the Minister was caused by the fact that she thought she had returned his fish steamer.

We should have known.  The Met office predicated boiled frogs (in all directions) paddy fields, maelstroms, femalestromes, an outbreak of inflatable Val Doonicans and a light evening frost.  It therefore turned out to be a glorious day.  Deckchairs and tables outside Stromness cafes.  In other nudes it should be confirmed for our correspondent in the Wee Toon that the Graemsay is back on it’s run.  The Golden Mariana will be going back from whence she came; Papay.

Mrs. Nicholson has had a letter from Sydney.  Apparently, it is too late to enter it for the Booker Prize for Fiction.

The County is taut; it awaits the banality of mass tourism.