On Thursday I had a dramatic and expensive day in the borderlands, involving a graveyard, sexual abuse and the military. And a speeding fine. It was like an episode of Taggart, or maybe more Dr Findlay.
The story continued the following day when I met up in Stockbridge with the delightful sister in law of the long-dead ex, who was able to offer corroborating evidence as we caught up on the last 35 years.
I walked all day yesterday, a.m. with Glasgow Seb, and p.m. alone (bumped into the DB in waitrose), on a near-empty stomach. Then in the evening I had a room picnic after moving into the next B&B:
Two packets of Waitrose sandwiches reduced from £2.40 to 69p:
• Prawn cocktail
• Camembert with grapes and red currant chutney.
Three types of Olive.
A bucket of Strawberries, plus vanilla yoghurt.
Then I dozed off and missed the whole Olympic ceremony. Did you see it?
I've just woken up with my first ever Erdinger hangover, partly just dehydration from all yesterday's exercise.