My predecessor Hamish the Westie hated fireworks with a vengeance and so would noisily and at length object to the traditional 5th November Guy Fawkes Night celebrations. Me, I've never had a problem with all those whizzes and bangs and so was happy to accompany Gail to Inveralligin yesterday evening, where between heavy showers, the rituals of an old fashioned Bonfire Night were being observed.
The one bit I didn't like was the dark walk home to the cottage, finding our way along the rough wet track with only Gail's failing wind-up torch for illumination. I stumbled a couple of times and thought I might have been carried, but no such luck...


