A pleasant day has been spent at the Lochearnhead Games.
This annual event takes place by the waterside.
With a backdrop of moody mountains, it must be one of the best sites in Scotland for clans and caber-tossing.
Flags fly and kilts abound. The sun shines and under the shade of a tree a serious pibroch competition is underway.
Mercifully, the midges are in short supply. Yet there is just one fly in the ointment. And that is the presence of a political party.
It is the first time that I have seen a political tent pitched at a Highland Games.
They are there asking people what they think about Brexit – and what their views on independence are.
And it does not feel right.
There is a place for such things, of course. But these gatherings are about friends and family. They involve reaching out and coming together.
So, here is a plea. Scottish games organisers, please keep politics out of clan events.
I am grumbling about that. But who can grumble about the recent weather?
Last month’s heat has been a rare and welcome addition to a Scottish summer.
But is has not all been days of wine and roses.
This week a violent thunderstorm hits. And it is one that leaves the MacNaughties cowering in their beds.
The banging and crashing shakes the house. Ears are back, tails are down, and eyes are wide open.
As night is falling, we take them upstairs so we can keep an eye on things. For you do not know what a scaredy-dog might do.
My sister-in-law once left her lovely labrador alone in the sitting room whilst she ran some errands.
During that time a storm broke and she returned to find that he had wrecked the place. Turning over chairs, breaking ornaments and tearing at the curtains.
And all this damage from a normally docile dog.
Suffice to say, our pair weather the storm. They curl in close and are fine.
But the house does not get away so lightly. A bolt of lightning has affected the electrics in the back of the house.
It means the cooker is off until further notice. Which is rather nice. Because now we shall either have to eat out – or eat cold.
Cold suits me just fine. Especially in this weather.
I am a happy bunny. But the MacGregor is none too happy at the thought of having to chomp away on rabbit food.
What is it with men and lettuce?
They look on green stuff like grass. Cress and cos, rocket and romaine. It hints of diets and deprivation.
A salad screams health – and probably women’s health, at that.
Because we all know that men like to chomp away on steak and potatoes, don’t we?
I, too, am partial to a bit of red meat.
So, tonight, along with my salad, I may order the rib-eye.
If the MacGregor takes me out for supper that is…
