The Goody Bag

His Lordship has deserted me for the second day running.
Lest you conclude that the noise of the vacuum cleaner has frightened him away, or the sight of my bahookie at ground level as I wield the floor cloth is a vision too gross for him to thole, let me assure you that sensitive as he is to sound and sight, the reason is a journey with two other National service veterans up to their old training ground at Fort George near Ardesier and relive their youth.
Apparently HL's father's war medals are encased there, so it will be a doubly sentimental journey for him.

As I traipsed down town this morning to collect some shopping, I came upon a stall which seemed to be selling The Scotsman newspaper in a handy shopping bag for the princely sum of £1:00, 30p cheaper than the regular price of the paper, so it seemed a good buy as HL had disappeared with our home copy.
When I got home I found not only the paper in the bag but a hard back copy of The complete Book of Mince, a book about Mary Queen of Scots and a packet of oatcakes; not a bad haul for one smackeroonie.
I believe the offer may have something to do with the Ryder Cup at Gleneagles, although I can't see the connection myself.