Apparently I am in disgrace.
I had hoped I could get away simply with showing you some photos from last Friday's walk up to the Queen's Well in Glen Mark, and thus make the lovely weather and glorious scenery the focus of this post.
But Gail, who (unlike the UK's current Prime Minister) lays great stock on being honest and open at all times, insists that I also tell you about our encounter with the solitary mountain biker.
Well this is my version.
About a mile up the glen from the car park we came across a youngish chap sitting disconsolately by the side of the track, his mountain bike on the ground beside him. He was holding a two ends of a broken chain in his oily hands. Gail, who will never learn that young men generally don't appreciate older women offering to assist them with bicycle repairs, said "oh dear, maybe I can help, I'm a cyclist myself, shall I have a look?"
Meanwhile, I had noticed a half eaten pack of chicken sandwiches beside the bicycle. Don't you just hate food going to waste?
Really, why Gail was so cross with me when she turned around and saw the remains of the sandwich clamped firmly between my jaws, is something of a mystery.
I was unceremoniously dragged away in haste, Gail muttering profuse apologies (unnecessary, to my mind) as we left a forlorn mountain biker alone in the wilderness with broken bicycle and no lunch.
Gail says: Oh dear! Trying to do someone a good turn does not always work out as one intended. In the immortal words of Scotland's greatest poet, whose memory we celebrate today:
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For promis'd joy!
(from To a Mouse, by Robert Burns)