Fools

The first day of April can be fun. Admitting the end of a blogging hobby or calling people up advising of a pair of broken legs is all good stuff.

No-one had me, sadly.

Mum fell for the broken legs story. Again. I can't tell her the Queen Mother is dead anymore since that actually happened a few years back.

Alan went for the legs, too. Though not mine, Ian's.

Loads of daffodils were out yesterday, dear reader. A sure sign of Spring. J'adore it. Summer's just around the corner and the daylight hours are longer than the night.



Taking advantage of the beautiful Spring weather, Ian and I decided to take the dogs for a walk into the Pentland Hills. Half way up, we stopped for a rest. Meg and I were so tired, we had to lay down. I thought I'd never be able to get up again. My hips were killing me!



We made it almost to the top. Almost. A kind of demi-summit, if you like. There's a glorious view of the city to be had and the peace is, well, peaceful, ski-slope notwithstanding.



Check this out on the Midlothian Snowsports Centre Wikipedia article:

It is one of the most convenient ski slopes in Scotland but people like Fat Pete the chairlift guy and Davy DM ruin it.



Mary loves sticks, twigs, wee bits of bark, leaves, needles. She just doesn't care, dear reader.



Another sign of Spring: bursting buds.



After a wee rest, we came back down. Almost at the bottom, Mary found a wee seat requiring her bottom.



So then we came home. A shower and a change of clothes later, we headed out to Armadale for a dinner party at Château Fisher. Scott and Nicola were there, Alan, too, of course. We had a fabulous meal. Alan made lasagne, to die for! Salad, jacket potato, garlic bread... Divine!



The above image is the dining room after we'd eaten. You might have thought we're a set of messy slobs, my little maid, but we're not! Look!

Nicola is such a funny lady. She told the tale of how, when at school, someone had asked her if she was a pencil or a pencil sharpener. On answering, "Pencil," she was told that this meant she was a boy! I laughed and laughed, tears running down my face. I think I even did a bit of wee-wee.



Alan runs a tight ship. The galley was spotless!



I thought I couldn't eat any more, but well, you know me. I love a creamy finish.



As do Phyllis and Scott.



Scott loves to watch Nicola put it in her mouth.



After eating, we had a chat and watched a wee bit of telly. The Most Hated Family in America was compulsive viewing and brought to us by Louis Theroux. The worshipers at Westboro Baptist Church see the world around them, namely the United States of America, as an irreligious place. God's judgement on America's acceptance of homosexuality and the worshiping of idols such as flags, presidents and the dead is the killing of soldiers in Iraq, cancer and AIDS.

Pastor Phelps wished Louis, "Good luck."

Tsk!

I think the bible forbids such behaviour. So who's irreligious now?

We also watched Wife Swap with Vanessa Feltz, her gorgeous beau, Debbie McGee and Paul Daniels.

Paul thought he was being quizzed. He thought Vanessa didn't care about anyone. Vanessa, with no conversation coming from Paul, thought he didn't care much about her.

Debbie was a nasty little slut. She'd obviously learned the vulgarities of arrogance and control-freakery from her shit of a husband and bombarded Ben with advice on how he could improve himself. The only one who needed advice was Debbie - advice on the quickest way of leaving Paul.

Debbie's got a modelling agency. Check out the hot models by clicking here.

We laughed as we were reminded of an interview in which Mrs Merton asked, "So, Debbie, what was it that attracted you to millionaire Paul Daniels?"

Debbie, Paul and the Westboro congregation were such utter shits, Alan was inspired to look up Rate My Poo online. Actually, this is a lie. Poor Scott was constipated. You know how conversation sometimes goes, dear reader. One thing led to another and within ten seconds of this announcement, poo was on Alan's desktop.



Scott and Nicola then departed, Scott having to work that night. It was soon time for Ian, Meg, Mary and I to go home. Meg was not happy. She likes going to Alan's house. He lets her up on the couch.

The drive home was not so long. We spoke again about our three years in Armadale, our pretty house there and the fantastic friends we made in that time. And time. It flies by so fast, dear reader.