Well well well. After nearly four months of hijinx we're finally preparing to leave these hallowed isles. On Monday. Sadly we'll be leaving short days and heavy precipitation for a boring 30 degrees and possible sunburn. I'm not sure that the bodies will cope.
In the meantime, I've drawn open the curtains in my Auntie's living room (I had the fold out this time, very comfortable I'm pleased to report) and it's a belter of a Saturday in Edinburgh. The winter sun's cutting shadowy shapes across the toon. Hell I might even wander down the road for a wee stroll around the Botanic Gardens to start the day in style. Who knows when I'll next be back in Auld Reekie?
Over the past 36 hours we've found ourselves squarely back in Scotland - home. It's a strange sensation, but when we crossed the border Thursday afternoon the atmosphere did change. That is to say, the rain got heavier. No, seriously, Scotland has an aura about it that you won't find elsewhere. Maybe it's an immanent sense of belonging on my part, or perhaps it's a subconscious desire to feel at home after 309 days on the road? Whatever "it" is, it's good to be back on Celtic soil for our final flurry before That Flight.
Wee brother Conor went out of his way to give me his version of The Selkirk Experience yesterday - a special few hours with a special lad. (He's back over here playing rugby for the club my uncle played for and my mum supported throughout her youth). We popped down to see our Grannie's old house on Forest Road (looking sadly dilapidated), shot down to the frosty Tweed to watch the Atlantic Salmon hopping up the cauld (a legacy of the old mill that used to operate here); had coffee in the nearby cafe and put the world to rest for a couple of hours; and did a reccy around the toon to see what's changed in the decade since I was last here. All of this after golf, of course: 9 holes of good banter around Selkirk GC - Conor and Michael Rutherford (family friend, Conor's landlord, and son of British Lions Great John Rutherford) took on puregolf2010 and nearly won!
A quick catch up last evening in Edinburgh with Uncle David and cousin Holly, and it was off to bed for an early night. Big day ahead: 9 holes at Musselburgh, the only remaining Open Championship venue we've not played. Then off to watch the All Blacks hump England at Twickenham (catching up with a couple of mates in the process). Then over the Forth Road Bridge to Dunearn Farm - the home of our dear family friends The Lows - for a relaxing evening and maybe even some administration!
The sun's shining outside and the Botanic Gardens beckon. I can smell bacon rolls coming from Auntie Gill's kitchen up stairs too. So I'm off folks. Have a swell day, we'll talk later.
JP
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Chisholm Park
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