Speaking as a Glaswegian, I’m glad someone’s found a purpose for Edinburgh.
Hi Sheona,
Not a happy crowd of Jocks at Murryfield today I would hazard to guess?
I was fortunate to be there for the 1970 Commonwealth Games aka The Happy Games. I lived in the Castle, partied on The Royal Mile, in particular in the Ensign Ewart. Was free to wander and see most of the events, almost caught a glimpse of the Royal Box when Princess Ann decided to bend over a chair to sign the royal book, then finally mingled with the athletes doing the conga at the closing ceremony. Probably, the best paid duty I ever did,
Happy days. 🙂
Stand by for McIncoming. I’m off to bed. 🙂
Nighty night.
OZ
p.s. How do they know when the bagpipes need retuning?
Good morning, tocino. Not a happy Jock chez moi either! But I agree that we Scots know how to throw a party. And the odd thing is that when Scottish foorball supporters go abroad for a match, they do not cause the same unpleasantness as English supporters, however drunk they are. I remember when Scotland was up against Brazil in the first match of the World Cup in Paris, the supporters of both sides were dancing happily together. Anyone for a whisky caiparinha?
Morning Sheona, Toc, OZ…Well actually, I’m not bad at all today….
Laughing at your bagpipes thing, OZ.
For Jan.
A young highlander who had never before travelled south was offered a job in London. He found himself an apartment and after a couple of weeks his mother rang to see how he was settling in.
Scottish accent shield disengaged
“Aye, weeel, they’re a strange lot down here, mother. The woman next door screams all evening and the chappie on the other side is forever hammmering on the walls.”
“Well you take care of yourself, Stuart, Don’t get involved.”
“Don’t worry, mother. I just keep myself to myself and practice on mah pipes.”
Boadicea's Chariot 
Speaking as a Glaswegian, I’m glad someone’s found a purpose for Edinburgh.
Hi Sheona,
Not a happy crowd of Jocks at Murryfield today I would hazard to guess?
I was fortunate to be there for the 1970 Commonwealth Games aka The Happy Games. I lived in the Castle, partied on The Royal Mile, in particular in the Ensign Ewart. Was free to wander and see most of the events, almost caught a glimpse of the Royal Box when Princess Ann decided to bend over a chair to sign the royal book, then finally mingled with the athletes doing the conga at the closing ceremony. Probably, the best paid duty I ever did,
Happy days. 🙂
Stand by for McIncoming. I’m off to bed. 🙂
Nighty night.
OZ
p.s. How do they know when the bagpipes need retuning?
Good morning, tocino. Not a happy Jock chez moi either! But I agree that we Scots know how to throw a party. And the odd thing is that when Scottish foorball supporters go abroad for a match, they do not cause the same unpleasantness as English supporters, however drunk they are. I remember when Scotland was up against Brazil in the first match of the World Cup in Paris, the supporters of both sides were dancing happily together. Anyone for a whisky caiparinha?
Morning Sheona, Toc, OZ…Well actually, I’m not bad at all today….
Laughing at your bagpipes thing, OZ.
For Jan.
A young highlander who had never before travelled south was offered a job in London. He found himself an apartment and after a couple of weeks his mother rang to see how he was settling in.
Scottish accent shield disengaged
“Aye, weeel, they’re a strange lot down here, mother. The woman next door screams all evening and the chappie on the other side is forever hammmering on the walls.”
“Well you take care of yourself, Stuart, Don’t get involved.”
“Don’t worry, mother. I just keep myself to myself and practice on mah pipes.”
All shields up
OZ
LOL Good one, OZ!! 🙂