Saturday, December 17, 2016
Ten on a Friday morning. The ice rink doing a roaring trade . Mothers warily watching four year olds taking their first skating lessons. When the little ones fall over, as they do frequently, they laugh.
At the little antique store on the market square a collection of papier mache hat mannequins and a tall wooden angel candle holder. The owner tells me the mannequins date from 1820. He says the angel is of the same period. Hmmm.
Out with Bob for a long walk along the valley. This weather is so bizarre it borders on the alarming. Bright sunshine and a warmth you'd be hard to find in Scotland in high summer. The Calvinist in Angus whispers that it won't last and that impassable snow and freezing temperatures are on their way. Another sign I've turned into my father.
Miss Sophie remains at home waiting for the green light to start haring around the house.
Above the village The Old Farmers ( diminished ) start still shines out at night.
And here is a picture ( you may have to scroll down a little ) of 'Si' the unsung hero dog that sniffs the chamber of the House of Commons for bombs, He's sitting on the Prime Ministers seat. How naughty :