och aye

A ten day holiday in Scotland? 
North west coast? 
Do I see you smirking behind a politely positioned knuckle in front of twitching mouth? 
But... Won't it be freezing?
Won't it just rain the whole time? 
Isn't there a risk of snow, even?
Wouldn't you rather spend 13 hours going SOUTH?
Ha! Not on your nelly! The only risk to us 5 intrepid adventurers (uncle scratchy was uncle-napped for the holiday) was inadvertent bog-snorkelling (both Liz & Mol fell into bogs... First liz - up to her waist... It was like a scene from an old fashioned Tarzan where the desperate damsel in distress is running from an evil woman-eating baboon (in this case Liz running from crazed sister...) and she slips into quicksand and sinks up to her chin, gulping with bulging eyes knowing her time is up... Luckily for this damsel her mother was two steps behind and pulled her muddy derrier from the black goo. And then Mol (moment of parental concern: how thick can you get?) 20 seconds later despite my "watch the bog Mol!" yell, goes and dives legs first into the exact same bog that just ate Liz...) - and (returning to initial train-of-thought) being decapitated by a low-flying Tornado Jet plane (that came over our heads just as Mol asked Husband if we are really allowed to light fires on the beach...- we thought being blown up by a missile would be pretty harsh punishment... Mind you, it's what to expect nowadays... N'est ce pas?) that had us all flattened to the smooth pebbles of the shore as it blew our eardrums and reduced Liz to a screaming shivering frightened wreck. Spare a thought for children of war-torn countries I thought as it disappeared over the brow of the local Munroe to dodge some deer antlers or claim a haggis or whatever. 

Scotland totally rocked the family of MR. Not least because of the genuinely breath-taking views & beaches & crystal clear emerald seas & pink Heather & lack of sirens & fluffy eared cows that meander lazily over the roads & the little men with orange hair and swishing kilts that jump out of the bushes and play Bonnie Prince Charlie on their bagpipes (just checking if you're still awake) & all 4 of us plus uncle scratchy having the most amazing rowing sessions over the loch while seals with beseechingly scrummy brown eyes bob in the sea beside us... 

It was just. Well. I don't know. Scotland! 
Brilliant!
Can we come back?
(Will bring snorkell & ear defenders...)