I have to go out in exactly four minutes, so this is going to be an interesting Tuesday Blog Time.
This week we went to the Edinburgh University Beginners' Dance. 18 of us! This involved many sleeping bags being lent out to many people who didn't use them in the end.
The dance itself involved most of our 18-strong gang being permanently bamboozled for 4 straight hours, yet going away with a sense of achievement and a lingering feeling that they might have had a good time. I went away knowing I'd had a good time, but with no voice left whatsoever, on account of trying to assist with the aforementioned sense of achievement.
This is what Scottish Dancing is about, it seems.
What Scottish Dancing also seems to be about, at least when it happens to me, it going to meetings on Tuesday nights. Where we will discuss such great and varied things as flights, mass catering and pirates.
Totally unrelated.
Please will you join me in wishing a happy 30000 miles to our own little Spoyk.
I am planning to be extravagant and drive him home for Christmas. 'Cos of freedom. 'Cos of some other things too, like my Mother's request that I absolutely vacate my room, and so that I don't have to decide exactly when I'm going to go south. It's mostly so I have the means of vacating the house full of highly-allergenic cats when I need to.
So... if you know anyone who would appreciate a lift southwards before Christmas and northwards after it, then the comments box is down there somewhere.
Over and out.
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