A Singsong

A grim wet day, but I manfully pulled on the galoshes and headed up to watch some pretty unwatchable football. St Johnstone - and we’ve to play them again next weekend, in the cup. "Hearts looked laboured going forward as the crowd became increasingly uneasy watching the flow of play.” Flow? Even when the sainties were down to ten men, we stuck to 4-5-1 or some such thing. I should write an angry tweet. Bloody Levein.
Meanwhile, the egg  chasers were stepping up full of promise to the six nations in Cardiff. That didn’t last long. Still, at least Hearts won, so we had an enjoyable couple of beers. Well, three actually. And a whisky. Changing into my kilt in the bog took forever. 
And what a fine evening JustSitting had laid on. Just for my eighth year blip, presumably. Broth! Haggis, neeps &  tatties, and a most terrific pudding which apparently you can assemble from panettone. I always wondered why anyone bought those. And the best of cheeses. And me of course, the biggest cheese.  And no sooner had I whipped out my camera than Jaybroek led the singing of Kumbaya; what a lovely bunch. And to think if it hadn’t been for blipfoto, I may never have met four of these scallies. Actually, this is probably about half of all the people still on here. Onward! And errrr upwards! 

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