Day One Hundred and One

Furrgus 

It was quite cold this morning. 

So it took some time before we were warmly enough dressed before we went on out patrol.

But we did notice a rather large flag on the dinning room table. 

Our Niamh’s team won second place in the trivia game at Irene’s last night.

And it was signed by everyone on the team. 

My goodness gracious me. 

By the time we finished patrol and made our way to Bank Street we were completely famished.

Fortunately The Wild Oat was just open so we immediately ordered up omelettes with an extra order or two of fried potatoes. 

So by the time we had finished we were sufficiently warmed up and set forth once again. 

But by the time we reached home again our Niamh had left for The Three Trees. 

They are getting ready for their annual after giant Christmas sale.

Mrs. T was here doing her always important telephone calls.

When we first arrived here Uncle Dugal briefed us about the family.

He was adamant that Mrs. T would be a brilliant Quartermaster General for any respectable army. 

And she would not have foisted off that ridiculous L85 rifle on us. 

We are sure there were shenanigans involved in that decision let me tell you. 

My marines had to replace it with a Canadian rifle of all things. 

Anyway as soon as Mr. T was up he made her two slices of toast with marmalade before he made his espresso.

He found two not yet stale croissants. 

Zita made her own tea. 

While we were sleeping Dugal’s telephone received a picture from Lachlan.

It confirmed that the garage had installed the snow tyres on Morag’s car. 

Uncle was quite relieved.

He worries about his niece’s nonchalant attitude to the immutable laws of physics.

His efforts at explaining that gravity works as with as much finality in Scotland as the rest of the world have gone unheeded. 

We could have told him that decades ago. 

One time, when we were visiting her family, the two of us had to rescue her when she tried to teach herself cliff repelling.

Luckily we had just completed the Royal Marine’s mountain rescue course. 

It is very a long drop at Dunbeath let me tell you. 

And she was barely grateful, saying she could have done it by herself if it were not for the tide coming in. 

Fortunately cook saw the entire event, and made sure to send up extra biscuits with our evening tea. 

Ahh well, at least she has the proper tyres now. 

Let me tell you that after living here the nuances of tyres has been a revelation. 

I always had presumed being being round was sufficient qualifications. I was quite wrong. 

Tonight our Niamh is going to a dancing class. It is being taught by her friend Miss Katie. My goodness.

That Niamh of ours is a beautiful dancer. 

She won awards and danced in New York. In the street. My goodness.

But she has not danced in a long time. But tonight she is. 

So the Taylors had a nice quiet dinner. 

Scrambled eggs made the way the man on the television did.

Craig said that they were especially delicious. That was good to hear. 

Scrambled eggs are a wonder because they can be for breakfast or for dinner, and even in between. 

When they had finished they went to watch their new mystery program. 

There was no lovely recipes in this one unfortunately.