91热爆

Its that time of year when UK over the word "Mum" starts to get worn out.. with "can I" being close on its heels, one can only attempt to hide ones anguish as the contents of the fridge dissipate quicker than a keg of ale at a ceilidh.

We're bashing on once again with the pig hut now that the weather has dried up again somewhat, the foundations for the exterior wall enclosing the concrete "wet weather" run are poured and the floor inside the hut is just about to be poured as I type, followed tomorrow by a skim of cement on the inside of the hut & then the grand roofing ceremony can begin.

The cows are starting to get ettchy, I recon they can smell that the grass is slowly starting to put on new growth & they are starting to become less content in they're warm dry & well fed winter arrangement, who can blame them really, but its another 6 weeks at least of pampered confinement for them before there will be enough grass to resist attack by the raging appetites they present.

Im feeling pretty chuffed with myself today, despite holidays & noisy kids decimating the kitchen on a daily basis, I managed to focus myself (during 10 min bursts) to learn the tune, 100 pipers & commit it to memory as well as the slow air, music of the spey.
I tracked down the score for a tune I love called Sheiling in the braes of rannoch, but, its in ABC format which im going to have to sit down & learn before I can even attempt to play it, one needs to figure out with all the C >F2 D etc are in reference to & then figure out what "Z" means.