VFR 750

Angus's party was noisy, messy, but generally trouble free. He got his mega amps working, borrowed some of Ferdi's equipment, plugged in Robbie's speakers and was all set. I strung up some party lights. Claire made cake and chilli, but her high point was lancing a major blood blister in Jamie's toe.

Around 50 folk came, and partied the night away. There was a thin, chill drizzle, and all paths became slithers of mud. The hut and bothy saw lots of action and their fires kept them toasty. The brazier outside the dance hut gave up the ghost. Fintan's chin connected with the table at high velocity, for the injury of the night.

The "yung peeple" were told to keep the party out of the house, but by 4am the living room was packed, as were the bedrooms and there was vomit on the stairs. Morning came and the house remained full of folk hanging around for the 10:30. When it came, only half of them could get on (16 seater), so there was a dozen or so exhausted teenagers waiting for lifts and more buses. By 2 most had gone, and things were getting back to normal, except for a bizarre collection of wellies.

Tom popped round on one of his bikes. We hadn't met up since his band played at XP2016, so we happily gabbed for a few hours over coffee and tea.

I knocked up a honey, mustard, bacon, chicken bake for tea. Angus crashed around 7. I passed out on the sofa at 8. We were all in bed by 9. So, I didn't make it to Sara's 50th at St Mary's loch.