And so - about 1 month short of 42 years, the parental home is no more. 

Me and the boys had a slow introduction to Sunday; we half watched MOTD and ate breakfast and then hit a wet and windy M9 to visit one last time. 
We had offered to help with a final bonfire and some other bits and bobs. Thankfully it lashed down from the moment we arrived until mid afternoon which meant I could sort out the lap top, deal with mobile phones (the land line and broad band might take a week or two to get fixed up) and various other minor but crucial things were dealt with. 

Soup and home made rolls and coffee later were consumed and eventually the rain abated, we set about creating an inferno and eventually as dusk threatened, we bade farewell to what was my childhood home and much much more. 

We hit the chippy ion the way home (NOT Javit's, Pensioner) and settled into an evening of football highlights and baths. 

Aye. It'll be odd not playing the Kinbuck game any more....

The folks at the  gate, making sure we're off the premises.