I was hoping to get away today to meet up with some folk from OM who were descending on Glencoe for the weekend. Marion's shifts meant that I knew I couldn't disappear on the Friday, but I had in mind to get organised to head up early today, either do a walk on my own or meet up with some of the OM'ers and - regardless of which option I'd followed - head over thereafter to the Clachaig for beer and chat.
It all fell apart a wee bit when my beloved ended up being told on Friday that she had to work today from 9am til 1, and then 3 til 9. The trip just wisny working out for dug care timing reasons.
I was sort of harbouring the hope that I could at the very least drive up to Glencoe late this afternoon, and have a few beers and then camp at the Red Squirrel just for the craic...but that seemed a wee bit unfair on Marion.
Let's face it, I'm the caring type.
In the end, it became somewhat irrelevant because at 2pm they phoned to say that they didny need Marion for her afternoon shift after all.
You can imagine how impressed I was at their organisational abilities.
Cue big huff about how dare they impinge on my weekend.
Still. As it turned out we went for a nice meal to the Italian down the road, got a posh bottle of red on the way back and are about to sit doon and book a movie.
That's kind of what I should be doing more often. The hills aren't going anywhere.
Hell - I don't sound like a pirate at all, do I?