Scots + Sunshine = Carnage

Geeza straw

Popped out to the communal garden for a coffee at 11am. By 12 the clinking of glasses alerted our ears to the fact the neighbours were taking the plunge and having a glass. Fancy one ? I asked Fiona. Och go on then just the one.


Then another. Joined by neighbour David. Laugh? Slap on more suncream, have another? Och OK. More neighbours emerged from their respective flats and the table grew and grew. We better eat I thought as I scrabbled about in the kitchen and found a small bag of mini cheddars and a melon. That”ll do for a start I said producing the Cheddars which we wolfed. More wine. More neighbours. The kids rampaged in the sun with water pistols, footballs, rugby balls, games of rounders as friendships were forged, stories were told, clinking and guffawing adults joined more and more. Surely the whole street was now in the garden whooping it up. By 7pm all dogs had been unleashed, all kids were getting tired and the adults were swigging and telling secrets in loud voices to anyone who would listen.

A good impression of the light tanning my chops got

Cut to this morning. A warm, fermenting melon was unleashed from my bag with one empty bag of mini Cheddars as I dug about looking for Nurofen.  A strange mobile phone fell out too. It rang. I picked it up. Fiona had left it under a chair, when did you leave? I ask.

I have no idea.

The street is quiet today. A lot of shuffling, sunglasses and low key meanderings – knowing glances.  Stuart – one of the whooper uppers – clocked me and just smiled. Carnage he said. I nodded sagely. Carnage. Please God don’t make it a long hot summer my liver cannae take it.


Writer & broadcaster.

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