Isn't this just perfect?
For once the Good Lady wasn't folding clothes or threatening me with a rolling pin but instead was looking out at the coastline before us sipping a coffee happily.
Yeah, it's pretty damn good.
I was leaning back and sipping my own drink. It too was coffee based but had a healthy wallop of a 12 year old Poit Dhubh whisky in it.
The resulting "drink" was peatily foul and smokey. Almost undrinkable in fact but you know, when in Rome.
I had seen the "recipe" for a "Mallaig Malice" in one of the bars nearby and had decided to just buy the main ingredient and make better ones myself.
Maybe we should get a house up here, it's just so beautiful.
The Good Lady purred with pleasure at the idea of me sweating to death at the coalface paying two mortgages.
Seriously. Imagine having these beaches on your doorstep every single day?
She closed her eyes no doubt imagining that Scotland had a summer that lasted longer than two weeks.
I farted silently in her direction hoping that my beige vapours might bring her to her senses.
At the same time I fumbled for the bottle of that whisky that had far too manyH's in its name for its own good.
I found it and slopped some more in my mug, diluting my coffee to the point where it was becoming homeopathic.
And the sunsets. God, we don't see stuff like that in the city!
Shtrew.
I nodded in complete agreement. Whatever she has just said was absolutely spot on, whatever it was.
Shtrew?
She looked at me as if I was an arse worm flailing about in the sand.
Shtrew? I mean it's true. Yes, it's true.
I squinted at her like a latter day Jesus who had turned his coffee into whisky.
So you think we should? Get a house up her and go all country living?
Her voice had gone up in pitch and I wasn't sure if it was because she was excited or because I had drunk so much sneaky whisky that time itself was slowing down for me.
I did my best to put the arse worm out of my head for a moment and thought hard about living up here in the beautiful sticks.
A sheep baa'd in a nearby field and disturbed my train of thought. Fucking sheep, what right did they have to all of this? Maybe I should get a place up here and go out at night in my wolf coat and show those sheep who was boss.
I giggled at the idea of one thing leading to another and lots of sheepy booms trotting about all over the place in a few years.
Then I remembered the witchery.
Witches always spoiled the Wolfy fun.
Hello? Hello, are you still with us?
The Good Lady clicked her fingers like castanets in front of me and I snapped out of my fevered imaginings of wolves, sheep and witches.
I thought of the endless silver sand dunes and nodded at the idea of getting out of the city and all of the concrete madness that entailed.
Perhaps my dear... Perhaps.