It's been a week of Covid firsts. First time at the dentist since October, having missed my six-month check-up and hygienist rake-oot in April.
There may not be a Braemar Gathering tomorrow, but Her Maj seems to have had a superb gatherin’ of her ain folk over the past week.
I am excited, but also infuriated. Monday’s Evening Express brought me the great news of plans to stage an open day in our beloved Bon Accord Baths to mark its 80th anniversary.
I wonder if most of the rest of the UK is having a right good laugh at Aberdeen.
On Tuesday, I was in Seventh Heaven. After 14 long weeks of lockdown isolation from my greatest luxury, it was returned to me today.
Well, at least I’m bang on trend. There’s BoJo urging us overweighters to lose five pounds in a bid to save the NHS a whopping £100 million over the next five years, as he launches his Better Health Campaign.
How should I put this? Let’s go with Fred Flintstone’s: Ya-ba-da-ba-doo!
You may have noticed I’ve been bangin’ on for a whilie about my holiday to Majorca.
Cheers! After our long Lockdown, the Neest’s bars and cafes were allowed to start serving us – strictly al fresco and 2m apart – on Monday.
Believe it or not, I’ve a couple of major thingies in common with Blustering Boris.
Too be, or not to be... two metres from the gadgie next to you?
Sprawled in front of the telly on Saturday night, probably like most of us in lockdown.
I reckon I can finally say farewell to an old, old friend.
What a lockdown-easing delight of a weekend. Like thousands of others in Scotland, I came finally face-to-face (but nae too close) to my nearest and dearest, after three months of virtual contact.
I have interviewed many people for jobs. But while I was watching our prime minister answering questions in front of the House of Commons liaison committee on Wednesday, never have I been more sure about someone I definitely would not employ.
As our children might be back to their desks in August, can I send a wee Hero-gram to a group who’ve so far missed out on the pandemic praise? The mums and dads.
It should have been a week of transformations.
To any regular readers I have to ‘fess up: I didn’t do the dirty deed.
Thanks to Facebook for so many wonderful photies from donkey’s years ago.
Usually the main topic of conversation when I’m on the phone to my mates these days is what we’re watching on the telly.
She seems to have developed a lucrative niche for herself as an aged national treasure, but Miriam Margoyles is a gem I can do without.
Thanks to the EE for highlighting the 200th anniversary of that grand institution, the Music Hall.
I can't put off the dirty deed for much longer.
How is your corona-shopping going?
Thanks to the great British lockdown, viewers are being treated to loads of repeats we’re not quite remembering from before.
Spooky. It’s exactly 43 years since I was lying in state in my room on the top floor of the Matty in Aberdeen, such a brilliant view.