Legendary Scots comedian Sir Billy Connolly left staff at a Highland hotel a hilarious message during a recent stay.
Bertie has been in a scrap. Or, perchance, he’s had an accident. At any rate, the tubby tabby cat suffered a lot of bruising and swelling to his chest area, and has had to have an operation.
A mountain hare and a raven met to discuss the events of recent times.
I’ve made another irrational purchase. Two in fact. The second need not detain us. It’s a tin of wood stain that I bought for the floors. Purchased online, it arrived next day, and turned out to be for exterior use only.
I have developed a phobia. It’s arguably my only one. Like many decent ratepayers, I am afraid of spiders, but a phobia is an irrational fear, and it seems to me perfectly sensible to fear spiders. All these legs!
Theresa May told a joke and I laughed.
I have a new toy or hobby: cement. My unlikely love for this grey matter started when I needed to replace a missing brick at the top of the shoogly steps that lead into the back-garden.
All I want for Christmas is a parking space. One of the worst things about being back in the city is not having a place to park.
The MacNaughties don’t like books. If the humans are head down, concentrating on words, it means demanding dogs are being ignored.
I was having a perfectly pleasant discussion with an older friend about the many shortcomings of the modern world when something she said put me in a quandary.