Never mix the grape and the grain; that’s what they say. It must have been looking at pictures of Scottish distilleries while drinking claret that did it; it went against the grape. I mean, the grain. Gosh darn it, it all looks so pure up there – all the clean air and the pine trees and the Black Isle reminding me of Fraser… Another lost friend. Fraser, where are you?
He was an odd bloke – but a lot of fun.
Was going to see ‘Tinker Tailor’ again this aft but I’m tired, Mark’s had about 5 hrs sleep so we shall see. Could possibly see Johnny English instead I guess.
Good night last night shooting the breeze with Andy and Peter; trucks playing the blues, claret going down, ice-cream remembered and no four-high metal in evidence. Oh no.
Lots of hard work yesterday; feel I’m making progress with stories. Jonathan came round and Mehmet also, much earlier, in search of a key. He is a very enthusiastic person.
So that’s it. Tomatoes this morning and after that – I don’t know.
Kirk out
Sarada Gray 