Every parent has to deal with life’s issues at some point or another. Whether it’s the first dodgy boyfriend, crashing the car or coming home drunk and throwing up all over the newly laid pale cream carpet; well OK, that was our dog and it wasn’t drunk. So it was for us this weekend. We were on a trip to the highlands, Kingussie to be exact, with a load of friends from university and after.Doglet was being dog sat at home by a good friend, so it was just the three of us for the long weekend; up after a gentle start on Friday and back down on the Monday during the day. It was busy, so we were pootling along looking at the view and being a good boy
Getting in to pot
behind the wheel. Yes, honest I was. Only about 5 miles to go, two slow lorries and an empty oncoming lane… Oh, and a police speed trap van, with the window open and some very expensive looking laser optics pointing right at us. Sods law, ain’t it! I try to be a good boy and it goes wrong. Oh well.
It acted as a reminder though. How do they know where I live? That’ll be the V5 or my driving licence, as the registered keeper. And where are they registered? Our last house. It just gets better! Well, all fixed now. You can even, shock horror!,
A St-urn talking to
change the address for your driving license online nowadays. So I have, on the grounds that I have a fighting chance that way of getting in there before they come looking for me at the old house…
On top of that, we were all in the kitchen. Not in the house for 10 minutes and already Marcail was getting properly stuck in to the pot. It was my fault, I admit it. I led her astray and then abandonned her to her fate. Mind, from the looks of it she then either got quite defensive about the wine and was fending Stef off from helping himself, or else he decided to have a ‘quiet word’ with her about this emerging pot habit but it was clearly water off a duck’s back.
The weather was really nice to start with over the weekend, but it broke a bit on Saturday, was damp on Sunday and downright soaking on Monday. But it was the Easter weekend and the house was full of kids, so WHO CARES?
Marcail had a go on the swings again, and seemed to like them just as much as she did the first time. I don’t know, are all babies actually adrenaline junkies, or is ours in a sub-class? It was great seeing her responding to the other kids though. Debs gets to see this with the activities they do during the week, but it’s a novely for me. When the older kids were running around and having fun, Marcail would get all excited in sympathy and start huffing and bouncing up and down. Bless.
Sunday saw us go up to the Highland Wildlife Park which is near Kincraig, a few miles north of Kingussie; towards Aviemore on the
Wheeeee
old road. It was bought relatively recently by the Royal Zoological Society of Scotland who have been putting a lot of investment into it. Certainly, compared to when I was there many many years ago, it is an awful lot better. Still, the wolf pack was only a single wolf, the wet beaver was dripping somewhere else and the capercaillie was in an ‘off display area’. Frankly we wonder if around the 17th of December last year someone on the staff said something along the linese of
‘Oh crap, we’ve not got a turkey for the staff dinner tomorrow. Errr, Frank? You’re in charge of the aviary section…’
Idle speculation, tittle tattle and general nonsense of course. Or is it? Still, the red pandas were in residence, though they don’t seem to put on a great display of agility and derring do. At least not during opening hours.
There are more photos on the website, in the “new” galleries section, if you want to see some more.