On the beach

My favourite wee relative came to play at the beach. And what a stunning warm day it was. And for the first time, she didn’t try to put stuff in her mouth. And she happily allowed herself to be showered afterwards. Definitely growing up. 
Talking of growing up, or not, later was the latest in the long series of crunch meetings about the harbour split. Some absolutely appalling behaviour on display. I mean, shouting across a table, "it’s like negotiating with a terrorist" and then ripping pages out a journal one after the other and throwing them in the air. We can all do that, laddie. And then afterwards, much apologising and shaking of hands. The kneecapping will come later.