Day Ninety Nine

Festis 

Well we were all back to work today.

We took advantage of the slightly warmer weather to venture forth with only our regular kilts. 

As there was no untoward activity in the area we took the opportunity to progress to Bank Street.

We dropped in to the Central Pub and ordered the surprisingly good Scotch Eggs. 

Which is always a good way to start the week.

When we returned home everyone, including Craig, were all fully awake. 

Craig was making a second, or perhaps third cappuccino for Zita and Niamh was about to leave for university.

Zita took out some raw croissants to sit and await the oven, while Craig had his usual two espressos.

The living room is still chockablock with pictures, but our input was not requested, thank goodness. 

By the time Zita had finished her second meeting, it was lunchtime and she headed outside for a walk.

Because she thought her brain was too full, and a good walk would clean it out.

The croissants had been popped into the oven a while previously so they were all ready for lunch. 

When Zita returned home it was just in time for yet another of her meetings. 

On a far more interesting subject, Zita received a new picture of our Miss Pancake. 

If all goes according to plan she may well be here by this time next week. 

Now that will be most exciting. 

But Zita was talking to everybody to make sure that Miss Pancake gets on the right airplane.

Miss Poppy was always very worried about Emmet’s aeroplane just getting lost. 

And looking around some airports, she had a point I just say. 

But our hopes of her arrival returning us to our sedentary, café centred lives, were completely crushed by Uncle Dugal.

He announced that Miss Pancake will be far too young to take over responsibility for the Blog.

Or to assume Poppy’s exhaustive security roles. 

After all he reminded us that it was a full eighteen months of living here before he could rely on our assistance. 

I must admit we were a little shamefaced when this was brought so directly to our attention. 

So while the young Miss grows into her size and responsibilities we remain the gap fillers. 

Probably for the best, especially considering our waistlines. 

And the cost of new waistcoats would absolutely shock you. My goodness.

It is snowing again around Glenfinnan and we are debating whether to contact Lachlan to check on Cousin Morag.

And suggest he disable the Bentley, until the snow tyres arrive. 

They were Dugal’s Christmas present to his favourite niece. 

Air freighted directly from Clermont-Ferrand we heard. 

But the pros and cons of speaking to Lachlan are both rather frightening I do say. 

So we decided we should sleep on it, as it was time for our afternoon nap. 

When we awoke and phoned the hotel bar, it was too late as Lachlan had already returned to the castle. 

Devine intervention we presumed. 

Having perhaps slept in for slightly too long we postponed our patrol under after we had our dinner. 

Niamh was not home for dinner, as she was still at the university writing her letters. 

We went out on patrol after dinner and took Uncle with us. The exercise will not go amiss. 

When we returned dinner was over and Craig and Zita were contentedly watching their mystery program.

The dining room table being clear, we put out the poker table cloth and found the remaining After Eights. 

Another successful day under our belts.