Visitors at lunchtime - misterft and weans. I’m now up to speed on instagram, thanks Tom. But no, you’re not taking my signed Hearts football. That’s for your little brother Alex who knows who the boss team are. He’s probably flogged it already.
A good spell of gardening to follow - our north facing slope is always a bit late, but there, just at the top where the sunshine briefly alights, a solitary snowdrop.
And then out to St Giles to see the huge moon and enjoy a bit of Roddy Woomble. He’s an engaging character, with a fine voice, but of course, as he himself remarks, it’s hard to generate much atmosphere in a church. Unless it’s a religious atmosphere, obvs. And to be honest, his songs are OK, but no more. His stand out was actually the only Burns song he did - the Lea Rig.
Home for the traditional haggis, neeps and tatties and a fine claret, with Game of Thrones in lieu of an after dinner speaker. And I do believe there was a toast. Several pieces.

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