Scottish Beer in Glasgow?

There were lots of acts everywhere and one guy was miming and he was really excellent. He pulled a big crowd and only moved when you put a penny in his pot. Of course I had to put one in and he beckoned me to join him. I was so embarrassed I actually got a beamer!

More shopping and time flew by and we were suddenly very late. Its this daylight thing, it really throws your body clock all out when for the last 6 years its been dark by 630pm. We had to wait for 30 mins for the bus so time for a swiftie in Glasgow Langs hotel to toast the Vampire. SQ asked me for a Scottish beer. I said I only knew of McEwans (is the best beer the best beer the best beer, McEwans…..sorry old habits) and I didn’t think there were any others. She said to ask the barman. Now there was something inside that didn’t feel quite right about a wee Scottish lassie asking a wee Scottish barman for a wee Scottish beer. I said she could have lager or ask herself. She asked. He laughed. They had lager. I had Magners. Sorted.

We were so late we were all scared to call Ruth and tell her. I finally drew the short straw. She couldn’t shout at me too much could she? After all I was the long lost prodigal eldest grand child…..Once we got to Edinburgh we then had to get another bus to Penicuik and we were even later. I wasn’t calling again that’s for sure. SQ is the daughter-n-laws sister, it was her turn.

30 mins of teenage feelings of oh shit we are so in trouble for being late. It was a scream. To top it off we thought the bus was going to catch fire. We were sitting in the back row downstairs on a double decker bus so the engine was just behind us. The noise we could handle. What I couldn’t handle was the fact that my bum was on fire. It started off like a pleasant warming feeling like in a posh car seat. Then that feeling you used to get when you fell asleep with the electic blanket on, you know where you know you should wake up and switch it off but your so cosy so can’t be bothered. But then it started smelling of burning and I was hoping from one cheek to the other.

We actually hoped the bus would catch fire as it would have detracted from our lateness. Obviously it didn’t and we were picked up from the bus by Ruth and whisked home.

Dinner wasn’t in the dog but we had to eat every last drop. I don’t mind a hearty three course good Scottish 5* dinner but the brown mafia were bursting. Bless. Delicious, I love home made Scottish dinners.