To stop the kids rolling out of the bed. On the day Scotland decided it doesn't want to be a nation, me and my Mum's Hubby made a fence to stop the little ones rolling to injury in their sleep, making a bad night for us all. Perhaps the Ordnungsamt will come a knockin' to make sure its solid enough to support children. Then we had a 12 year old Glen Fiddich and speculated whether it'd be that long before the next time, or whether it really was a neverendum.
The 15 year old awaits us after our dinner of Shepherd's pie and I'll carry on seeing if I can get the printer to print. I've been busy, busy indeed. If you thought that change was going to take as long as good whisky does then think again. Let's see how I feel after the 18 year old anyway. See you on the other side.
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