The Hoy Head Approaches Houton

First thing I had a phone chat with the wifie from Nairn who sent me the underpants last week.  I told her I’d had problems getting into them.  She said she’d told her man (Big Bri – AKA Wattie) that she thought I would be large!!  On hearing this I had to put the phone down, have a sedative, apply a poultice, use my smelling salts and have a rest on the Ottoman.  The Current Mrs Creel threw a pail of water over me to remind me that I had to pick up my mother to take her through to Kirkwall to see the optician – Ellis. R take note.

At the opticians I asked if my mother would get an anesthetic – there was no time for the mannie to answer as my mother’s trousers fell down.  No one knew where to look or what to do. 

Post optician my mother wanted to go to the drapers to buy some trousers.  However it all proved too much so we ended up going to two different chemists.  For reasons that only an international panel of perspicacious and sagacious polymaths could hazard a guess at, my Mum spent two minutes looking at a display of condoms. Time stood still.

I have chosen to edit the next three hours (all spent in the chemist).

Arrived home to the balm of an incredibly calm Scapa Flow.  Calmest ever – it appeared as if a bath of mercury.  It was almost phosphorescent and could be poured out like silver.  A party of Great Northern Divers tinkled and dived.  A true privilege to watch.