is better than Thursday. I had an early night to beat off the German germs and it seems to have worked. I certainly feel cheerier today. The nose is clear, the eyes bright and I'm not coughing as much.
The Mod is in town, so you can scarely move for wailing Teuchters of an evening (or so my spies in local hostelries inform me). Although Falkirk was never part of the Gaeltach, it was a major stop on the cattle droves so might be thought of as a sort of Tartan Abilene of the 18th century. Might try and pop along to some of the folk music type bits.
Do that! And sing a lot about gubbing the English and cry about the times they gubbed us because of traitorous B's, and then sing about us rising again... you know it makes sense!
ReplyDeleteWell, I dunno about sense, but it seems to feed part of our weird national psyche!
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