Campsie Glen

Last night I had a nightmare that I had turned into a chef. This is worrying , worrying indeed.
Its worse than the usual beetle ones, and worse even than the time I dreamed that I was an amoeba like organism living in a cess-pit on a typhus ridden planet which inhabited a universe existing inside a speck of dandruff on the collar of Jeremy Clarksons blazer.
(We worked out that that one had been the result of The Lady of the House accidentally putting mescaline in my Horlicks.)


As a result of this nocturnal trauma, I almost cancelled today's excursion. However, I'm made of sterner stuff.
In fact my stuff is almost Reithian in its sternness,


So off I went up Campsie Glen and onto the escarpment. I wasn't firing on them all today -did not get as far as I intended.Pics were poor, weather pretty good for the time of year. But all in all, a "one step back" after the weekend's "two steps forward"

Just to remind myself of a time when my life wasn't shit