breaking out of the slow catch up into the present, the day caught up in a majestic thunderstorm, the kind of weather where it's impossible to stay dry... it felt kind of fitting, waking up to the news of peter green, which set me up to remembering trips and, too regularly for our liking and sanity, adventures, from edinburgh down to the borders, an old unreliable brown allegro which, was still a good step up from the escort held together by string and synchronous movements around corners and roundabouts which had rpreceded it, a journey mostly soundtracked by fleetwood mac's then play on...