Red Letter Day

Yesterday was a bit crowded and a bit of a red letter day.

Dee journeyed by bus across the 80 miles of hills to Inverness for some necessary shopping plus a minor operation - on her hair. (How she hates having it cut or re-engineered in any other way, but as it turned out it turned out as well as always.) I salled forth on a sales trip, a very successful one as it happens, meeting the lady in the afternoon in Inverness' Eastgate Centre.

We also met there with a friend who is a brilliant marketeer of her tweedy things and who has a gondola stand in the Mall. She's agreed to tack our stand on to hers, 27-30 October when we will be away in Spain on our first real holiday in some long time. Thank you Denise, if you're reading this.

Then to meet Jim, fount of knowledge about all things IT and many other things. Then with Jim to his lady at home in Achnasheen for a marvellous dinner, then the long ride home through the dark and the rain, on the constant alert for stags on the road until we worked out why there were not any. Of course, it's the height of the rut. They are all up on the hill competing for hinds right now. A very dear friend, sadly no longer with us, had a saying which has stuck in my memory. "Bryan," he'd say, "It'll pull you further than dynamite'll blow you." Thinking about it, he may well have been referring to the rut.

And so to bed. Another day, another dollar, another set of memories.

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