Where all the money goes

My granny's house, I owned this briefly in the 90's only to lose it over an ill considered hand in a Chinese card game. Typical. 

The pub and cafe where family funerals usually seem to end in a steady stream of sausage rolls, cheap white wine and dark brown beer. In the foreground the harbour seat where my grandma would sit and soak up the rays. To the left and out of shot is the new and discreet sewage works.

The Barclay family seat, owned by my dad and my true inheritance. Unfortunately it was sold for £1000 in 1970 as part of a shrewd business deal that didn't so much go wrong as didn't actually exist at all. Another feckin' financial disaster. How different things might have been we'll never know.

The stars and stripes fly over the Cellardyke war memorial (well close by). No idea why.

Random pics and more unsolved mysteries and memories from the East Neuk: The recurring "what is the meaning of life?" still haunts and irritates since as a troubled teen I first asked myself  the question down on the rocks at Cellardyke whilst puffing on an Embassy Regal. There is no answer of course, only the meaning that we give it ourselves and that can be quite significant and powerful. Once we are gone however life returns to it's regular meaningless state I suppose.