Well, that was quite a weekend. And the result? Never in doubt. LOL.
Unfortunately we never made it to Dundee for yesterday's civic reception (above) because, en route to Glasgow on Friday night, I got the following text message from my friend Helen.
"OK for Sunday?"
"What's happening on Sunday?" I replied, cautiously.
"Tom's confirmation" came the curt response.
Tom, I should mention, is my godson and he's the same age, 15, as my son Ruari.
And so, ever so slightly tired, we were woken up at six o'clock yesterday morning, given a traditional Scottish fry-up and sent on our way. But instead of heading north (east) to Dundee as planned, we had to drive south to, er, Watford for the confirmation service which was followed by "light refreshments" in the parish centre and then (Tom's choice) dinner for family and friends in a local Indian restaurant.
Not quite the celebration I had planned but Tom, should you ever read this, you read your prayer beautifully. And the meal was pretty good too.
Needless to say I milked the fact that we had driven 320 miles to be there, missing the biggest party in Scotland to do so.
"Don't worry," said a well-meaning person sympatheticaly, "you can always go next year."