...my arse.
The rains been pissing down, the clouds are dull as Hell, especially when I've been on days off.
Spent most of ithem hoovering up mouse-shit. (Anyone want to buy a second-hand Hoover?).
Or the rainiest day yet - driving up and down the back roads of Stirlingshire looking for Carbeth with the old-dear and the dug in the motor.
Granda had been one of the original Hutters in the 30's and had a hut at Carbeth right up until he died in @1973/4. (He burnt to death when the hut burnt down), and the old dear had spent a large part of her childhood there but hadn't actually been out there for 50 yrs.
Some lovely huts there, some only held together by their paint jobs. All under threat from the land owners wanting to hike up the ground rents. Understandable really given what caravan site ground fees can be.
Needless to say, 'cos of the pissing rain no-one was out and about - just us.
Thank fuck for the Carbeth Inn, 2 soups, coffee for me and a wee whisky for the old dear in memory of her Da.
The dug got a chewstick.
Bugger.
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