Another Morning Of Burning Houses, Drugs And Prostitutes

I get the bus in which means another morning of burning houses, drugs and prostitutes. No I’ve not been reading the Metro again. Just my Stuart MacBride book.

A lot of Scotland is again under a covering of deep snow. Which is pretty typical, as we’re not up there. They are even skiing down to the car park at Glencoe again and seem to be doing so with far more ease and style than we managed when we did it two years ago. It’s all a welcome boost to the coffers of the ski industry up there.

I stay in Derby after work, retiring to the Royal Standard with Detective Sergeant Logan and a pint of Finns Hall Porter to wait for L and Daughter. My detective novel is so harrowing that I have to have another. L arrives in time to get me another top up.

Then we move on to the European Restaurant to meet my parents and my brother’s family. It’s my parents’ 60th wedding anniversary, although my mother did try to keep it quiet. However, surviving 60 years with my father, bless him, deserves celebrating. It was a very good meal and all topped off with liquor coffees and cheeseboard.



(Friday 11th March)