‘I have always loved the big stage and would often tell my friends while growing up that I’d want to help India win the World Cup one day’. (Gautam Gambhir)

Skippy! I think that’s the wrong sport!

And so, dear listener, I have placed some bets on the World Cup. With William Hill – the bookies who are currently very supportive of prostate cancer awareness. 🙂

2 x £10 bets on France and Spain (and I can live with the 3-3 draw against Ronaldo the other night) allowed me two free bets worth £5 each (Brazil and Belgium) and all are ‘to win’. I rarely place bets these days and it’s a very long time since I placed a bet on a horse race, although, as I do point out from time to time, ten years ago I did place a bet on a horse in the Grand National called ‘Comply or Die’ which came in at 7 – 1. 😀

It had seemed such an appropriate name, given that I was about to undergo treatment for cancer. My son, separately, also placed a bet on the same horse and later that day told me (eighteen months after my cold turkey) that the winning jockey was a ‘recovering alcoholic’. That acceptance meant more than the winnings. 🙂 🙂 🙂

Anyway those bets give me a reason to take an interest in the World Cup itself. Other than the first game which took place between two of the lowest ranked teams in the competition but who happen to be two of the most oppressive regimes anywhere in the world.

And I now worry about the horses more than I once did.

But I must confess I currently feel cut off from the rest of the world. It’s nothing to do with periodic depression and anxiety; it’s the fact that they’re working on the railway line at Cowlairs and so the nice wee Summerston to Queen Street trip (12 mins) is off for the next three weeks. Until 9th July!!!!!!!

Normally, it’s really smashing. A two minute drive or a ten minute walk and I’m at Summerston Railway Station; twelve minutes on the train and I’m in town; and another ten minutes I’m in the Concert Hall. Compare that with living in the country or some other parts of Glasgow.

I might check out the buses tho’. The main reason for not using them before was that they didn’t take me anywhere near my work (both projects were in the Charing Cross area above pubs) and the train was really handy for the City Centre. But they might be worth exploring. I’ll keep you posted.

But it did cause problems the other night. ‘Cos I didn’t know!!!!!!!

It was the day of wet and windy weather. Or Thursday as some people know it. I was going to go to the Concert Hall for a presentation on ‘Health in the News; Fact or Fiction?’ and normally I take an earlier train in case the trains are running late. But that day, I decided to trust Scotrail and go for exact times so that I wouldn’t get caught in the rain for too long. Arrived at the platform that is Summerston Railway Station only to find…..well,

I’ve kinda given the game away, haven’t I? And the very alternative arrangements are fine up to a point but not as a last minute fix at drive time.

Ho and hum. A good friend who is still involved in the world of studying recently described herself as feeling like a bit of a hermit at the moment. Me too, but for obviously different reasons. Railway lines for example.

Serious efforts are being made to find appropriate voluntary or part-time work and I am open to suggestions but maybe I should think about some form of further education that is not specifically work or drink and drugs related.

And almost finally, I note a story online from the actor Michael Keaton about a drunk Glaswegian getting into his car to give him directions to where Michael was supposed to be going but ending up at the Glaswegian’s home.

This happened to me once in Oban (BBC business) at about 1030 in the morning. I had arrived there to do a recce from the 100th Anniversary of the Highland Cattle Society and was looking for the Auction Mart.

I was on the Esplanade and got out of my car and shouted my request. This man came up to me and said, ‘I may be drunk but I know where I’m going’*(and got into the passenger seat. He got me to the Mart and then wandered off into the Argyll distance. 🙂

*How nearly that became my motto in 2005-6. :p

And finally, plans are now well in hand for my birthday in a couple of weeks’ time. I’ve an early afternoon meeting with my heart consultant in Stobhill Hospital.

Tioraidh, still wearing that badge and still keeping it simple. You never know.

Iaint850, who will return next week with many tales of Feis Spors Ghlaschu but also my thoughts on the sad news about the School of Art.

Now some of you will know that my grand-daughter took part in a dance show last week but there has never been a named mention of her or her young brother (let alone a pic) on social media including this blog. I have been asked.

Very simple. Altho’ I’m a big user of social media I’ve been asked not to do general sharing and to give the grandweans some privacy in their early years. Which I’m happy to do, altho’ I do pass on the odd pic to some folk.

And that includes videos of my grandson and his first steps sent to me on Dad’s Day.

It’s a wee bit like the old days when you collected photos from SupaSnaps and showed them to just some folk.

And just as Kodak told us, ‘one day your prints will come’.

No. I will continue to share much about myself but am very careful about others. It could be that fact that I live alone (have I ever mentioned that?) or that I have no watercooler around which me and my work colleagues can mingle. It doesn’t mean I always get a response. It means I need work colleagues.

Or maybe, Skippy, it just means that I’m dead boring…………………………

But as the equally boring Willie Nelson says, at least, I’m ‘Still Not Dead’.

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