Ralph the Wonder Llama

…red sky at night…

…shepherd’s house on fire.

On Sunday Donald, Bruce and I went off to Perth to see Ross County play Airdrie Utd in the Challenge Cup Final, a hat-trick of finals in recent years. We got to Perth, where the final is played at St Johnstone’s ground, just after opening time and headed to the Foundry to play pool and prepare ourselves for the cold by drinking beer. Mmm, beer. At least, I was playing pool – I’m not really sure what the other two were doing. Ahem. Anyway, without giving too much away, here is the scene of the first defeat of the day:

So after that we jumped in a cab and headed for the ground. It was a pretty action-packed game, and I would say that County probably had the better of it without really having the final cutting edge to make the most of it, partly due to the absence of their first-choice striker. Half time saw the welcome respite of steak pie and Bovril all round. Mmm, pie.

An own goal each and a spirited comeback by RC in extra time from 1-2 down saw us back at penalties, just as in 2006. This time however, despite taking a lead at 2-1, a crossbar-striking fourth swung the balance and after a penalty shootout that England would have been proud of, Airdrie edged it 3-2:

A shame, but such are the fine margins that these things descend to. We returned to the pub for consolatory pints before getting the train back to Edinburgh and another couple of Dark Island-y consolations. The boys were sad but not broken. Donald even managed an impression of the fluorescent bloke out of Tron:

Still a good day out – next time we shall wreak our rewenge!

Greetings from sunny Selkirk. Well, dark. And, alright, rainy. Picky lot.

Anyway, I write to let you know that as of 1 December I shall be back in gainful employment. Having had it relatively easy these past three years in the sense that I could walk to work, was doing what I knew for the most part and had become quite comfortable, things will be a tad different from now on. I’ll be working in Glasgow for a consulting firm at National Australia Group, trying to help them implement an as-yet unspecified third-party Microsoft app. It’s all a bit vague, and it sounds as though I’ll have to turn my hand to most anything except coding. We’ll just have to see how it goes I guess.

It’ll be longer days with the commute, and it’s a bit of an unknown quantity work-wise, but it is a contract and it does seem like a decent enough place to work. From what I’ve seen of the market over the last month of looking, I’m lucky to have found one so soon, methinks. The Plan™, of course, is a little battered and in need of realignment, but at least now I know where the next little bit of funding is coming from, so yay for that.

I’ll let you know how it goes once I’ve figured out what the hell it is I’ll be doing. In the meantime, I’ve got a couple of weeks off. Some domestic stuff next week, including some preparation for re-entering the world of work, then Sue and I are off to hit the countryside for a week, and hopefully multiply my collection of Munros by a factor of three or four. It’s always sunny in the Highlands in November, right?

I should add a quick and belated mention of donald’s birthday, which was last Thursday (6th), and which we celebrated with dinner at le sept and a few drinks in various places on the Friday night. I don’t have any photos I’m afraid, but I did garner a hangover out of it that lasted most of Saturday. Let’s hope the County can deliver a late birthday pressie next Sunday by winning the Challenge Cup Final for him

Go figure. After Donegal in March and May, this has to be the most surprising climatic experience of my life. Sue and I headed to Oban for a few days’ R&R in the dark and cold of an early November Lothian evening, many many layers between us and cursing the absence of quality catering facilities at Glasgow Queen St station. No matter. Three hours, some expensive trolley sandwiches and some extortionate but welcome trolley G&Ts later, we arrived in Oban and headed for our accommodation for the next few days, Jeremy Inglis’ Hostel.

Jeremy himself has run a hostel in oban for around 30 years and, at 79, remains in possession of a remarkably firm handshake. Maybe it’s something given to rowers’ hands, as the photos from his Trinity days on the wall in the hallway attest. An affable, voluble and seemingly infinitely well-travelled character, his presence suffuses the place, from the ready bonhomie to the photographs on the kitchen walls. It’s one of those places that one half suspects might physically collapse without his presence. That he heads to Tesco to procure breakfast supplies and calm remains is reassuring enough. But for the somewhat tired mattress, it’s the perfect bolt hole.

Our first day was spent in reconnaissance and on a small boat trip around the headland ostensibly to spot seals. We saw one, which was enough to confirm our belief in their existence, and allowed time for some silly pics:

We tentatively blagged a trip for the Wednesday morning to accompany some lighthouse-dwellers on their shift change but, for reasons that shall only be darkly hinted at, this never came to pass.

In the evening I cooked steak a little too much in the wrong sort of pan, but it was quite tasty anyway. And there was much rejoicing. Read the rest of this entry »

So, once more I have some catching up to do. It’s not my fault. There’s just never enough time. God knows how I ever managed to fit in a job. When I had one, that is. Ahem.

Anyway, first up is Sat 1 Nov, when we headed to a very cold Westruther (don’t ask me, I’ve no idea where it is. It was dark, ok?) where, in the village hall (which actually looked brand spanking new and suspiciously religious), something called SHARE was staging a long evening of musical innertainment. SHARE is a sort of not-for-profit organisation that promotes these occasional gigs and ensures that the musicians actually get paid a small something for their efforts. I was principally here to see an impromptu outfit called Al Quit & the Dropouts, featuring one Sue Bremner on backing vocals and percussion.

This was Sue’s third ever gig and it’s fair to say she was a touch nervous beforehand, which is perfectly understandable. In the dim and distant past when I started playing live I well remember how nervous I got – shaky hands are not a drummer’s best friend. Anyway, by the third number things had settled down and the band found their groove. They played a mixture of covers and originals (none of Sue’s though – sort it out lads!) and had a pretty good sound. Certainly got the Billies up and dancing, which is always a win. Once the nerves had gone Sue did really well and looked very comfortable. It’s not often one hears harmonies that good at this level. Well played!

I didn’t have my camera with me, unfortunately, so herewith the traditional rubbish shots from my phone camera: