A Wet Saturday in Kirkwall

An utterly wet and miserable day.  I went into town for messages.  I noticed the Current Mrs Creel running alongside the car, weighed down by her accordion.  I slowed down and let her in, then delivered her to her lesson in the Town Hall. By the time l'd finished the messages l'd developed webbed feet and a vicious quack, at the very least a strange mallardy.  We headed to the Care Home to see my Mum. 

Back at HQ CMC showed me a picture of a bottle of Clynelish, l had to look at it from 30yds away and through the wrong end of the binoculars.

In his developmental years Wittgenstein was concerned with the logical relationship between humans, global propositions, and overiding problems of language differences.  He was obviously never in Kirkwall on a very wet Saturday in January.