All truly great thoughts are conceived while walking.( Nietzsche)

I shouldn’t be writing this, I should be cleaning the house and baking for the Quinquennial Visit tomorrow. But it’s my day off and as the Rev. is out with his “bestie”, a word my teenagers use for their best mate, for the day, I’m chillin’!

My 3rd daughter was on the phone at 9 a.m to let me know that she had survived her “Hen Weekend”, yes a whole weekend of fun, am I jealous? mmm yes. Not that I would have managed the Cheer Leading course, or the consumption of alchohol that some of the girls did. I have pumped too many stomachs for that to be an attractive option!

Instead the Antiquarians took me on a walk with them. Now this is their societies’ name not their age, although I may have been the youngest. We met a member in the supermarket, who said that they were going to explore a “Secret Garden” , mention to me the word “secret” and I’m in!

I have always been a “walker”, not only does it keep you fit, de-stresses and gives you time to think it keeps the weight down. For the last year I have been grounded due to exersise being a trigger for my A.F. but since my op. I have been gradually increasing the walking, like “running in ” an engine on a new car. It’s working and although I may be a stone heavier than I was last year, I’m not as unfit as I thought. I really enjoyed the garden, and it definately was secret, you’d never find it alone. Despite the very late Scottish spring, there were Rhodendrons of every hue and size, we only walked for an hour but enough to work up an appetite. Back at the car in the pouring rain, we were provided with a cuppa and I spoiled the exersise by eating far too many sausage rolls and scones.

Back to my daughters forthcoming wedding, the whole point of my exersising is to lose a bit of my matronly figure and get into a mother of the bride outfit. My sister will look stunning and I know the dress she is wearing, sickening, because I’d look like a sausage wrapped in bacon in it. Oops another food analogy. I wanted something floaty and eastern looking, but apparently that is not M of the B enough for my brood, who must remember I was a “Hippie” in the 60’s. Peace and love man!

I have 5 weeks left , a) to lose a few pounds, Dunardry Hill, here I come, and b) to find something to wear.

I did “nip” into Glasgow and drag both sons and my long suffering daughter-in law around every clothes shop imaginable, until they were nearly dead on their feet and pleading “it looks good Mum ,just buy it!”. So I did and I hate it kids!……..