The weekend was spent down at Colintraive overlooking Kyles of Bute. For once, the weather was immaculate, dazzling blue skies and a light covering of snow to make the whole place magical. The intention had only been to go for Saturday lunch, but we got a call from our friends saying hurry up and get down.
The weather remained fabulous the whole time we were there.
In these remoter parts of Scotland, one does not come across that many young people (in the group of houses were our friends stay, the youngest inhabitant is over 75, with the oldest nearing 99) which means a slower more genteel way of life pertains, with politeness and deference in abundance.
Two little stories from a wedding as reported from dinner on Saturday night.
One of the guests, approaching his 50th. wedding anniversary, says that his father took him aside the night before his wedding.
" What did the one silk stocking say to the other silk stocking?"
" No idea"
" Heavens above." This, apparently, was the extent of his sexual education.
The other was one of the witnesses at the wedding was wearing a pair of trews. As they were about to leave the vestry where the signing and witnessing had taken place, the Bishop who had married the couple, took up his crook, and hooked the betrewed witness's male member. He had forgotten to do up the buttons on his trews and the offending article had popped out.
" I know you intend to use that on the chief bridesmaid later, " he intoned," But I really think you should keep it warm until then..."
There can't be many that have been thus sanctified before use...