Scotch Mist

I left the house this morning in what I think of as more typical Scottish weather; those beautiful hills across from the workshop look like this today:

Now you see them, now you don't!

Why aren't you in the studio doing some work at this time of day, I hear you ask...I'm just waiting for some wax to melt so will be off soon, but I thought I'd have enough time to drop you a line first.

Ola persuaded me to go back into the lions den last night and we went back to the local again for a glass of cider. Not being a darts night it was much safer, and a lot quieter. Well, what I mean is there were considerably fewer people, it was still noisy. Mostly thanks to an elderly local character named Dave, who was as lascivious as he was drunk! Ola thinks the Scots (in the bar) are highly amusing, "they speaking English?" she asks with a big grin on her face. She can't understand a word they say (even those that weren't drunk), so I had to translate for her even the most colourful language, which was probably most of what they had to say! Dave tried to persuade us to walk him home, but someone reminded him he has a wife, who he then told to "mind your own f***ing business you f***ing b***ard". His optimism was as amusing as his language!!!

Well the wax is probably melted by now, so I'll see you later!