Sunday 11 October 2009

An emotional Sunday

my breakfast
Well I've had a terribly emotional day. First of all I celebrated my fourth follower on Twitter by having sugar in my porridge instead of salt - funny thing that. I suppose it's something the English have brought to our fair land along with curry. Anyway, with the ghastly taste still in my mouth, I put on my dungarees and marched into the garden for some hard graft - I'm determined to have at least one flower and one vegetable next year.
my garden - before
So I was working away for about two hours when I heard a familiar voice. "Grandad! Grandad!" For one moment I thought my lovely young wife had decided to come back to me and had brought the boy. Sadly it was just my brother and my son - he was taking the boy out for the day, presumably leaving my wife and her young lover to enjoy carnal pursuits at their leisure. Apparently the wee boy had said, "Let's go to see Grandad!" and my brother obliged. I burst into tears. As I said previously, I am sure they are trying to poison my relationship with the boy by suggesting that I'm too old to be his father and that lover boy is his real father. Heartbreaking.
we had lunch here
So after the boy had tired himself out running amok over my freshly dug flowerbeds and throwing lumps of earth at me we decided to go out for lunch. We went to a lovely wee caravan I know in a layby off the main road and had a greasy bacon roll each, washed down with a bottle of Irn Bru - fantastic. But then we had to say our goodbyes again. "Goodbye Grandad", he said - I felt completely crushed. But it's been a lovely sunny day here although with all this family business I'm afraid the garden has been left in a mess.
my garden - after
But with the sun going down, my mind has turned to matters in Aberdeenshire and the duplicity and cowardice of the Councillors in not granting the Great Donald Trump Compulsory Purchase Order powers to sweep the objectors from their homes. Does anyone remember the cartoons that once ran in a magazine called Leopard about a certain Councillor Swick? For those of you from foreign lands, Swick is a north east Scotland term for a cheat. Anyway, the cartoons are online now and you can see them here - you probably have to download them and print them a bit bigger.
Councillor Swick cartoon
It just shows you that there is a long tradition of snouts in the trough over there. Not that I'm suggesting for a moment that there is anything going on but it makes you think. There's no smoke without fire. I see that Tilda Swinton is in on the conspiracy too - just disgraceful - but if you want my opinion, I don't think she's a normal woman - if you know what I mean - so her views are completely worthless.

1 comment:

Nemesis said...

Well, the Twitterers for @auchterness may be few but they are growing in number, and quite a discerning audience now.

Who would have thought the joys of town planning could have proved such a draw?

Now, where's that Tom Dyckhoff off the telly...