Golf Tango Foxtrot

It's a beautiful spring day here in rural Angus.  The sun is shining.  The trees are in their first bloom. The larks sing and all seems to be well. I am making use of my right to wander over this beautiful countryside.  Down by the side of the River South Esk, at the old railway crossing just above the historic Bridge of Dun. Little remains of the railway bridge.  I think it was even a pre-Beeching casualty. One side of the span has been retained for the use of anglers crossing the river. The metal plates that form the footpath are rusted and weathered and the masonry piers they join make a fine sight in the bright day. The river flows underneath and the sound of the water is soothing. Dippers skim over the surface before diving into the water.  I sit on the river bank and enjoy the sun.  A sign notes that this is "private angling". Many years ago the Brechin Angling Club of which I was a member would get a day on the Montrose Angling Club's water a...

Swaying about on the train trying to write something which might possibly end up as a Blog post.   But who knows?  My screen is back to back across the train table with a weedy looking dude with a big motherfucker Dell laptop screen which leans over into my space.  Fortunately my Chromebook only has a modest size screen and is easy to maneouvre under the beast opposite which is almost blocking out the light. It’s got a good wee keyboard I have to say.  Far more usable than the Samsung Netbook I used to fart about with.  There are fewer unforced spelling errors but a distressing lack of a “delete” key.  So far I need to backspace if I want to remove my errors. At least there is no-one in this carriage howling into their mobile phone to tell their interlocutor they are on the train.  The wifi which I haven't bothered connecting the Chromebook is notoriously inadequate and exists only to kid passengers on that they really can do some work on...