Alan

We drove through to Armadale yesterday evening to see Alan, dear reader. He's just come back from the wilds of Eastern Europe. The poor soul looked terribly washed out, so we didn't stay very long, just enough time to catch up and hear all his news and any gossip.

We'd have come away sooner, but my mouth ran away with me. I can certainly yack, dear reader.

In the end, to get me to shut up and for us to leave, Ian had to drop several hints:

"Alan will be wanting his bed."

"Alan looks ever so tired."

"What unholy hour of the morning do you have to get up again, Alan?"

I felt so ashamed - and I wasn't even drunk! Oh, and not one puff on his cigarette did I take!



The photograph above in the spot from where Alan's Mum, Rebecca, sells her delicious cheeseburgers. Sadly, she's not there of a Saturday evening, or I'd have called in to nibble on her big, milky-white baps.

If you want to see a photograph of Alan's fabulous Mama, please click here.

The journey there was quite pleasant. I love the coolness of a Summer's evening, just as the sun starts to set. There's something quite fabulous about it: the memories of good weather, the welcome drop in temperature, relaxation and the kind of sigh one lets out, not through stress or relief, but through gratitude.



Taking photographs in a moving car at 70 mph is a mistake. The shutter opens and closes when it wants to, not when you want it to.



And taking photographs at 30 mph isn't such a good idea either. The camera focuses on what it wants to focus on, not what you want it to focus on.



Alan's house is the most fabulous building in West Lothian. I'm not saying that because he's my friend or because I want him to lend me some money, no. I'm saying that because, in my humble opinion, I believe it to be true. Alan knows all about the building's history. I know very little. Perhaps he'll mention it on his blog someday. I'm surprised it's not mentioned in the Armadale page on Wikipedia. If I knew what to say and how to do it, I would, but I don't and I can't, so I won't.



Alan's brothers, Robert and Barry were at his place when we arrived. Sadly, they didn't stop long. They wanted to get home to bed as they too have to be up early in the morning for the family trip to fabulous Las Vegas.

We should have gone when they went to let Alan get to his bed. I feel so ashamed.

Before his brothers left, Alan showed us a leaving gift his fellow workers had given him to remind him of his stay in Ukraine. Isn't it fabulous!? It's not often that Alan is to be found plucking away at something between his legs.



So, my wee sister is off to the USA tomorrow. He's a lucky bastard, isn't he!?

It was three months ago that we were in his home last, saying goodbye to him, although it only seemed like yesterday. And there we were again, saying goodbye once more.