Fit next? This pandemic is fair diggin’ in. Plunged into lockdown in March, most of us thought it would all be over by summer – autumn at worst.
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.
A minor miracle has happened... I had my first normal weekend since lockdown.
Donald Trump Jr, eyes superglued to the autocue, cracked a joke at the Republican Party convention along the lines that his dad’s opponent in November’s US presidential election – Joe Biden – is like the Loch Ness Monster; he pops his head up every now and again to run for president.
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!
Qualified though I am, there will be no application from me to participate in a new BBC TV show which needs bad singers.
In my TV days I once called Jack Charlton with an invitation to be the subject of a lengthy interview on his career as a Leeds United and England defender.
Too be, or not to be... two metres from the gadgie next to you?
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.
Eighteen months in the planning (and panicking) and finally - last Saturday - my quine's wedding.
New figures show that mortgage arrears in Aberdeen have trebled since the downturn in the oil and gas industry.
No way would I try to tell you that when Real Madrid play Deportivo La Coruña at the Bernabéu tomorrow it isn't Zinedine Zidane who is THE story.