Bad cat gets a cuddle.
A cup tie visit to Aberdeen yesterday is now a distant but not entirely unpleasant memory. The best part being the tasty £1.00 (very hot) pies and the ceaseless witty banter and relentless sing-song abuse you only get truly absorbed in when a part of the travelling support. The home fans were given no quarter and we were well ahead in both incisive comment and volume until a cruel 92nd minute own goal wrecked our afternoon party. Ho hum. Tails between our tails and some pie aftertaste in our throats it was the long walk back to hastily parked cars and the long dark drive back to Fife. Down on cash and petrol maybe but we'll be back.
Rain returned today, grim and forceful, lovingly leaving puddles and temporary floods, held in fields like saucers, drowning the winter crops and gathering toxic salt and mud and mixing it more and more to coat cars and roadsides and fill treacherous potholes with unseen slime. Come back Jack, Mr Frost, cold and shining, dry and open, clean and strangely perfect.