Dreich

Very dreich today so it was a relief that Tom was coming in and I could get our for a bit. Too wet to walk far but I toughed it out the hundred yards or so from the car to the Captain's Table in Findhorn. Have I said what an excellent place it is? Should I have the talent I could write a couple of chapters of the next Harry Potter there, sitting comfortably with a good coffee and an 'all day' breakfast for £4.20 with no hassles. I like the bay when there's rain coming down on quiet grey waters. As long as I'm inside of course.

A nasty dusty grubby consignment of books arrived whilst I was away with one or two 'almosts' in the old children's books department - an Angela Brazil, a covetable Brent Dyer and a Billy Bunter, but none of them had dust jackets alas. The first prize went to 'The Morayshire Roll of Honour 1914 - 1918' which is not the be sneezed at, although it's so dusty I can't avoid sneezing.

Now I have to sit and twiddle my thumbs till closing time. The High Street is empty. Yesterday it was noisy with huge articulated lorries because there was yet another fatal accident on the bye-pass and all traffic using the main trunk road between Inverness and Aberdeen was diverted. It was horrible. I remember hearing that many shop-keepers opposed the bye-pass bitterly because they said it would take all their trade away. What rubbish! Who would want to stop in the town with car transporters, timber lorries and huge tankers crawling noisily through, belching fumes and rattling the rooftops with their gear-changes. Fochabers still has this and the High Street is virtually dead, choked to death by carbon monoxide. Some folk just don't like change; they haven't learned that it might be scary but it ain't all bad.