Loose Ends
I'm riddled with guilt. Every time I think about this blog I realise that I just abandoned it many weeks ago with half-hearted excuses about the new Radio Scotland blog being a better alternative. But that was just rude and I ought, at least, to tie up a few loose ends before I shuffle off.
Firstly, thanks to everyone who has followed this blog over the past few years. Officially the hit rate was only about five or six thousand a week (the figures have actually gone up since I stopped updating it!) but I was always amazed because I've met so many complete strangers who have told me they have read it .
I also have to admit that reader interest in my views on radio was always fairly low compared the number of questions I got aboiut my family life, my relocation to Inverness or how the Zedettes were getting on at school.
They're fine, by the way. Both are now teenagers with everything that comes with that. Too cool, now, to approve of my online revelations about them. It had to happen.
More recently I've been asked how my decision to quit alcohol has worked out. Well, that's now nine months since our Under the Influence campaign and therefore nine months since I touched a drop of booze. I've taken a liking to those cheap bottles of alcohol-free lager - great for supping on a summer's night - but find myself challenged by checkout staff every time.
"You know that's non-alcoholic?" the ask.
"Yes, yes,"
"It's just that we don't want you bringing it back later."
It's a strange reversal. When I was younger I used to be challenged for buying the real stuff and had to carry a passport to prove my age. Those days are long gone. Long gone.
What else? What else?
Oh yes, the Woolies store in Inverness finally has a new occupier. It's another one of those Poundland shops.
And the camping trips continue. I finally bought a half-decent tent and we've had some great overnight stays in Aviemore, Gairloch and Dornoch. No midge bites so far. Mrs Z tends to stay home looking at overseas holiday brochures. She can dream.
And Rascal, the dog, is alive and well and can sniff out a biscuit within five hundred yards.
But that's it really. The end, I think. I will be making the odd appearance on the new Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland blog, but mainly to talk about broadcasting issues. So you want have to put up with tales of my endless train journeys or my faithful allegiance ot Inverness Caley Thistle. Lucky you.
Bye for now and thanks again..
