Homeward Bound
Today I met our eldest grandson from the school bus. It's the last day of his first term at school. He seems very grown up. I see he's already practising being a teenager by going around without a coat in all weathers, but by the time we reached his street he'd stopped to put his jumper on. October in Scotland can feel a bit brisk even when the sun is shining.
I was especially pleased that he didn't follow the current fashion of handing his bag to his adult. As an ex teacher I'm always amazed at the sight of young Mums struggling along the pavement laden down with their offsprings' schoolbags while they skip blithely ahead.
This week off in October was called the Tattie holidays when I was at school. We did actually 'go to the tatties', gathering the potato harvest in Angus. The date wasn't set until the farmers knew when the potatoes were going to be ready to lift. In the summer we 'went to the berries'. In my case raspberries, much easier on the back than strawberries.
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