Wha stole yir scone, son ?

I feel i must post something, lest you start imagining that I have been taken up in a spaceship to an alien planet where I am locked in a  house and expected to copulate with a silicon enhanced porn actress in front of an audience of mutants.
How well Kurt Vonnegut foretold Celebrity Big Brother.


I've been getting around locally, a couple of miles here, five miles there, gradually working up the distance and the ascent. Today I was out and about in lovely crisp January weather on the university campus.
I've posted about this before, but make no apology for doing so again.

What ? You insist ?
OK.
"Line in  the sand" "No one person was to blame" "Mistakes have been made" " Lessons have been learned " " Time to move on " "This is the humblest day of my life" "Blah, blah, blah"
Will that do ?

If I might be allowed to continue.
The second of the recent storms (not Hurricane Bawbag - the one after it ) did a lot of damage around here . A lot of trees down on the campus and in the village, and the sound of chain saws and chippers is everywhere.

Swan Central !
It's a pleasant stroll around the loch

This is a memorial to Tom Cottrell, the first Principal and driving force behind the establishment of the University. It's called The Pursuit of Knowledge. I like the concept, but not necessarily the execution. Its a bit too, well, blue for my taste, but then works of art are supposed to challenge.

The Pathfoot Buiding was the first building on site, and now holds the collection of modern Scottish art. Mainly dross, in my opinion, with a few nuggets shining through.

This  stone used to stand in the market square of Pathfoot village and marked the site of a small Tryst or cattle fair. The "Path" in Pathfoot was the then main road from the North coming down off Sheriffmuir and heading for Stirling Bridge.The stone has been moved several times, and, as you can see, during one move it suffered a wee accident.
"Fuxxache, Davie. You've dropped it. We'll aw get oor jotters"
"Wisnae ma faut. It just slid aff the forks, like. It's an auld yin anyway."
"But it's awfy historical"
"Well, noo they've got two historical stanes fur the price o' wan. Result"
"Away ya bam. Look , they might no notice. Willie, run doon tae the workshop and bring me back two o' thae big tubes o' Araldite"

This is Blawloan, The last remaining house in Pathfoot. The inhabitants were traditionally makers and repairers of shoes.
"Cobblers ?"
No, it's true, I tell you. (copyright Benny Hill, circa 1965)

And so, homeward via the paper shop for a Euromillions ticket