As I prepare to leave Inverness (I'll have my breakfast first!) a last word before the silence falls (dramatic, huh?) I survived my stint as guest speaker - people laughed, no-one made spit balls (as if they would - this is Hillhead, darlings), and a man whom I remember as an object of considerable adulation when I was thirteen (he was in the First Fifteen) said more than once that he'd enjoyed it. It's extraordinary how strong the memories of school can be - or is it only of a school like this, one where the pupils were part of the "Hillhead Family" and went on after S6 to wear their old blazer with the FP badge sewn over the school one? I don't know. It was a jolly evening and the food was good. And the wine - though mine had to wait till I'd spoken.
And now we're off south again - via Perth, for a Cursillo weekend Closing. And then I'll have to face my poor dead whatever it is. I know my laptop is using the Airport (because I managed to print using it) and Demon tell me the modem is connected to the Internet. So, for that matter, does my laptop. Clearly, something is not being entirely truthful. I may be able to find help - but blessed is she who expects nothing, for she will not be disappointed. Look for me in a month or so.
Besides, Crete beckons. I may never return. And now breakfast smells wonderful.