Oot tae play.

The sun has got its hat on,

protecting baldie heids.

A book as a present,

grass cutting in stripes.

Dean Martin sing-a-long,

mind, only efter you’ve hud a few….

Toes in the ice cold burnie water, slipping on weedy rocks,

hauling out the fire extinguishers.

The woman from Michelin said when the burn was in flood she would watch patio furniture float past.

Eating chocolate mini rolls in the mini bus.

Midnight walks in the hills,

the planting of trees.

Bangin’ oor heids the ‘gether trying tae dig the same hole –

Abbot and Costello….

Leaning on spades,

and lopping of branches,

the losing of keys, again…

Talk of a barbeque – the tatties, burgers,

marshmallows.

It wuz a guid laugh the day.

Writing Alistair on a wee scrap of paper so I dinnae forget…..?

Wheelbarrow races,

naturist walking (naw by eeny o’ us ken. )

And tea.

And a jaffa cake, or jammie or hob nob……or………