Sorry….It has been a while. Couple of weeks on holiday; a few days spent in Scotland and the rest of time at home. It says a lot that on my return to the office the only question I field is how many animals did Bob slaughter. I’ll spare you the details. But just so you know his approach is not completely gratuitous, one evening last week I had lashed out on rib eye steaks ( and a fillet steak for Jimmy who is fussy about these things and which, I might add, I managed to barbeque to perfection…much to my relief). Bob wasn’t supposed to be with us that evening, but arrived unannounced just before supper. Not fazed at all by the fact there wasn’t a steak for him he took a shot gun, went down to the bottom of the field. A couple of bangs later he returned with a pigeon plucked, popped it in the oven and joined us as we sat down at the dinner table.
However, never let it be said I don’t have value added for you in these ridiculous emails. This one may one day prove priceless. I’ll give you a bit of background so it should stick in your mind. Leading off the house we were staying in on the shores of Loch Arkaig was track up the hill beyond a padlocked gate. I nodded knowingly at the housekeeper who told me that the code for the combination lock was 1314. Fellow Scots you understand. When he realised that, despite my accent, I was of his own kind, he let me into a little secret. There are only two sets of number you need to know, he told me liltingly, in the event you come to a combination padlock anywhere in the Highlands. A couple of days later I drove up to the far end of Loch Arkaig to go for a run. It was a beautiful spot and I was feeling very happy as I parked the car where the road just about ended and was hiding the keys behind the back driver side wheel when a car pulled up on the other side of the gate blocking the route. A girl got out and fiddled about with the chain and because I was in such a good mood – and not simply because she was stunning and was wearing glasses – I offered to close the gate behind her to save her getting out of the car again. Not surprisingly it was raining. She politely declined my generousity explaining that the lock was a bit tricky. But, with my mind wandering as it tends to on these runs – you may recall I once calculated how many sheep it would take to feed China for a day if their daily calorific consumption was to rise by 500 – a few miles on, as I sunk to my thighs in a peat bog, it belatedly struck me that she probably hadn’t trusted me. That hurt a bit I must admit. So, eventually having negotiated various other hurdles including a wide deep river and a bull, I returned and took a close look at the gate…chained with a combination padlock. I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t even try 1314. I just knew the other number would do the trick and click click click click….it opened. What a great feeling that was.
So back to work and immediately I had a gentle lesson in focus and application from an old friend of mine who was telling me about his daughter who has just completed a gruelling summer internship at a bulge bracket bank. Into the officeat 5.45am, home some time between 9-11pm. Little wonder then she didn’t notice a nasty scrape down she inflicted down the side of her fathers car. In the run in to the year end, that’s the sort of dedication you can expect from me. Talking of which yesterday, one of my children, who shall remain nameless, but was at a bit of a loose end, drove, without incident, to and from Rugby, where she collected Bob from a pre-season training session, wearing nothing but a pink bikini. I feel I am partially to blame in not arranging a couple of weeks for her in Ibiza, but it beggars belief really.
We didn’t go to Ibiza. We spent Hen’s 21stbirthday on Holkham Beach where we had, at her insistence, a mermaid building competition. No question about it. Mine was the best.
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