All in a day’s work.

Another fine day so I put in a few miles on my bike, feeling good, off to the ironmonger now, the girls have given me a test piece – drill hole in some tiles but that requires special drills that I do not have. They have bought these tiles and wish to thread ribbons through holes so that they can hang from walls. All part of their craft stalls at a local craft fair, coronavirus has put pay to them holding their annual coffee morning and crafts stall, here at City Park, the things I do for charity, unlike Yorkshire men.

“Do, ought for nought – unless it’s for thy self”

I have the news on in the background and every half hour there is a piece about violation of Human Rights in China. Now I am not against flagging up human rights violations no matter the country involved. However, what we have here is an unsubstantiated report from a Chinese defector (a whistleblower). This seems like another Chinese bad story, propaganda for the US and UK involvement in the China Seas. Of course the UK and US, – those great democracies and defenders of the truth and justice. There are lessons to be learned from these two great bastions of civil rights, that treat all whistleblowers with the same benevolence as this Chinese defector. Oh wait a minute, what about Julian Assange, Guantanamo, Palestine, Yemen………………… A very wise man once told us,

“You that are without sin, cast the first stone”

Had a very busy weekend, on Friday I went off to the Criterion for lunch with my niece and her husband, I love the atmosphere in this pub and the food is first class, cooked on the premises, (plug, plug). Trent and I, we’re already talking about our next fishing trip, loch next time, where I will have more room for casting, my excuse for not catching anything, Trent caught a beautiful trout, which I have to say I enjoyed very much indeed. They taste good no matter who catches them.

Saturday my big brother made an appearance so it was off to our favourite little café in South Street, for coffee and homemade fruit scones, layered with butter and strawberry jam, it’s gid tell yir ma’. Campbell has just returned from a fortnight’s holiday, being pampered by an old lady friend.

Although 10 years my senior he still works, in a very advisory capacity. He has all sorts of letters after his name as a consultant on traditional building methods and writes reports for such people as Historic Scotland, English Heritage and advises on remedial work on ancient monuments. He told me a great story about a job that he was involved in quite recently at Westminster Palace, but the least said about that, maybe the better, only to say that the taxpayer has deep pockets and those in charge of its refurbishment certainly know how to milk the system. He has retired dozens of times, to my knowledge and was telling me how he gets emails each and every day offering him short contracts.

“All Good,” I told him, keep it up as long as you can; sitting at home looking at four walls and out of touch with the real world is a shortcut to an early grave,

“Happiness is not a gift, it must be worked at” Dalai Lama.         

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