A disjointed week.

Friday morning. The kitchen units are delivered. The electrician and the kitchen installers , unexpectedly and inexplicably, also show up. They are supposed to start on Monday. Five vans fill the courtyard.  " As we're here we might as well get cracking " says the head kitchen fitter. ' Think again' replies 'The Font' who has a kitchen to pack up and move to the house in town. The kitchen fitters and electricians depart.

For Angus this last week saw two trips across to the other side of the country.  His eldest brother finding that a routine 'dry cough' examination quickly accelerates into something altogether less friendly. Is it better to get too much or too little notice of such things ?  From the front door I can make it to the west coast and back in a day. Never ending daylight and the twice daily flight by Scotlands favourite airline in its doughty twelve seater makes the journey easy if not smooth. 

Family gathering from distant parts. A few bedside minutes alone to tell him that when I was four (and he a worldly wise seventeen ) he was my super star. He taught me my first swear word ( Bloody - and a stern telling off from his father for leading the youngest astray ), listened to the Beatles ( how cool was it listening to Please Please Me in early 1960's Scotland ? ) and knew, to  Angus's satisfaction,  the answer to every conceivable question. He'd been to South Africa and had travelled in a jet. On the mainland he met girls from Paisley and Kilmarnock. What exotic sophisticates they were and what tales he had to tell. One summer holiday we walked down to the harbour to watch the islands brand new Wolseley police car being hauled out of the water after Sergeant McLaughlin parked it on the ferry ramp with the handbrake off. It sank until only the tip of the blue light on the roof was visible above the water. To this day I don't think I've seen anything that could match that for  putting the 'awe' in awesome. I laugh, he sleeps.

On the journey back I stop and enjoy the weak sunshine in the square by the station. There's twenty minutes before my train.  The entire population of Scotland seems to have had the same idea. I admire the lions on the war memorial in the centre of Glasgow. They have a wonderful imperial haughtiness.

Sophie is reunited with the errant component of her flock in the Dundee station car park. We then head to the fancy golf hotel. During Covid it opened an open air bar with red rattan chairs. For once it is warm enough to sit outside and sip a glass of restorative champagne . The staff bring Sophie a bowl with roast salmon slivers out of the oven , basmati rice and beans.  This , she quietly signals by means of much nose licking, is the sort of life she could become accustomed to. The diva has found her milieu. 

This coming week will be busy.