263.
To make up for the fact that I didn't manage to get out for a walk yesterday, I decided that today's perambulation would be a long one. The initial plan was to head up past Bridgefoot and on up the hill towards Auchterhouse, cutting off at the Dronley Road towards Rosemill then on down through Dronley to Birkhill and up past Clatto, and from their back home. All in all, this is probably about 6 miles. A quick glance out of the window was enough to scupper this idea. No way was I going to walk all that way in the sleet. I still went for a walk, though: only I didn't go quite so far. Bridgefoot and back, with a 40 minute coffee pause in the end-rigg of a field, was as much as I was prepared to do. While I was wandering, I came across this old Merc that was definitely past its best (a bit like me, really). As well as noticing this old Merc, I saw that the Dronley Burn has burst its banks in several places, and that some of the bridges over it were struggling to allow the water flow under them. The angry brown water had replaced the calm and clear flow that was a haven for the ducks only last week. The longer I was out, the worse the weather got, until it reached the stage where my Goretex jacket was letting in water. I made my way home quite briskly, and arrived at the front door resembling a snowman. Still, it is mid-winter, so I should really expect this. A little later in the day, I dropped in on Gavin on my way to the supermarket. Now I am back in the house, beginning to get excited about the big game tomorrow: Celtic v. Rangers in the Scottish Cup. Come on the Bhoys! Keep your fingers crossed for the Celts.

Strathmartine before the sleet