weekend yo-yo
Well, the first yo-yo trip is complete. 3 trips to Scotland in as many weeks and unique for me in particular is that it was done in a car. With me driving. Sometimes driving very fast, almost by accident. Honest.
As a weekend, it had its ups and downs. The purpose of the trip itself was a down; a memorial service for someone taken from life far too early. The event was quiet, sad, hungover and heartfelt. I felt a tremendous sense of belonging in Sallies Chapel, not associated with religion but more with my connection to the university and town. It was odd. It brought a detached curiosity as to whether so many people would come to my memorial service, and what they would say. Morbid, nes pas?
To balance this morbidity I stayed at Naughton, a place of fond memories and surely of great events to come. An excellent location to embrace living and avoid pondering mortality and the like. Beers flowed, laughter echoed and sleep was lost. Everyone seemed on good form and some old friends showed up almost by surprise. It was a revitalising tonic to earlier events and drunken charades replaced morbid contemplation as the sun peaked over the hills of North Fife very early on Sunday morning.
Then, later on Easter Sunday, a trip down to Manuel House to jump start Monday's long trek back to the Big Smoke. Between Naughton and Manuel I know of nowhere else I have felt more welcome. My academic son and co-pilot for the weekend's adventure concurred.
I'm still exhausted from the driving. Stubborn pride forced me to do a full workout this morning and my body doesn't seem too happy about it. I slept almost 11 hours last night, not even making it to 10. The nest egg I put aside for supporting me through writing this book is coming to an end far faster than the book itself. A hunt for part-time work on the horizon? Must write faster.
My team. Destined for glory, Molly, Alexandra, Joe, myself and Daniel drank valiantly through all the trials and tribulations faced by a charades team. 
The lovely Miss Ross.
Some rocks
St Rules Tower
A wynd by the cathedral. I can't remember which wynd it is, which is disgraceful as I lived 200 yards away from it for 3 years.
Cathedral & trees.
Me. I don't post many pictures of myself because I'm about as photogenic as something terribly unphotogenic. My face obscured by hat and shades helps.
As a weekend, it had its ups and downs. The purpose of the trip itself was a down; a memorial service for someone taken from life far too early. The event was quiet, sad, hungover and heartfelt. I felt a tremendous sense of belonging in Sallies Chapel, not associated with religion but more with my connection to the university and town. It was odd. It brought a detached curiosity as to whether so many people would come to my memorial service, and what they would say. Morbid, nes pas?
To balance this morbidity I stayed at Naughton, a place of fond memories and surely of great events to come. An excellent location to embrace living and avoid pondering mortality and the like. Beers flowed, laughter echoed and sleep was lost. Everyone seemed on good form and some old friends showed up almost by surprise. It was a revitalising tonic to earlier events and drunken charades replaced morbid contemplation as the sun peaked over the hills of North Fife very early on Sunday morning.
Then, later on Easter Sunday, a trip down to Manuel House to jump start Monday's long trek back to the Big Smoke. Between Naughton and Manuel I know of nowhere else I have felt more welcome. My academic son and co-pilot for the weekend's adventure concurred.
I'm still exhausted from the driving. Stubborn pride forced me to do a full workout this morning and my body doesn't seem too happy about it. I slept almost 11 hours last night, not even making it to 10. The nest egg I put aside for supporting me through writing this book is coming to an end far faster than the book itself. A hunt for part-time work on the horizon? Must write faster.
Charades. This was the opposition. Lil, Ru, Duncan, Noel & Pete. While they put up a good fight, they were always doomed.
My team. Destined for glory, Molly, Alexandra, Joe, myself and Daniel drank valiantly through all the trials and tribulations faced by a charades team. 
The lovely Miss Ross.
Some rocks
St Rules Tower
A wynd by the cathedral. I can't remember which wynd it is, which is disgraceful as I lived 200 yards away from it for 3 years.
Cathedral & trees.
Me. I don't post many pictures of myself because I'm about as photogenic as something terribly unphotogenic. My face obscured by hat and shades helps.