Recovery

Saturday, not Friday. My blips are mixed up due to alcohol induced malfunctioning.

Summery solstice cosy warm day. Birds in full song, beasties in full buzz and flowers in full bloom. I had these two all to myself for the best part of the day. As much as they drive me crazy they are good for the soul, especially when I've experienced a power outage in mind and body. They provided a two wheeled escort as I ambled the two miles ( I always embellish this distance) down to the village to retrieve the resilient and rusty BlackBettyYesMobile. She'd been abandoned in the village the night before, on account of me being a nervously happy drunken bum, having had a wee swally, or two or three or four wee swallys, with a raucous group of females.

Engineering two bikes, two kids and my old bones into Betty, while irrationally imagining the glowering stares of local curtain twitchers unamused at having a Yessed Up wee car parked up on their doorstep overnight, took some doing, so we rewarded ourselves with lunch at Parkhill. And cake. Of course.


Back home and hangovertireditis got the better of me so I had to sloth out on the bed. But not before I told Fergus Fish finger this barnstormer of a joke about three dogs that walk into a cattery.....as you can see, he thought the joke was the cat's whiskers the cat's pyjamas and the dog's bollocks all rolled into one.


Must mention my Niece Lucy who found out she has a First class honours degree yesterday AND my nephew Harry, who ran a personal best time at Hampden yesterday too, what clever people. Another wee memory for when I'm flicking through my blipfoto books in my senile years.