Back at New Milne

A full day at Stirling and we return to New Milne. We have planned this evening a wonderful meal prepared by Larry Giesen with assistance from many of the rest of us. However, I'm still touchy. Miffed. Pissed off even. I, of course realize now, that it was all in my head and mostly a petulant reaction to a non-issue. However, at the time it was enough to fuck my day. So, while everyone else is helping prepare food, or gathered in the living room with glasses of wine, or sherry, or port or even Scotch, I'm wandering the grounds of New Milne. New Milne itself means, in "Auld Scots", the New Mill. And so I believe at one time or another it likely was. I also believe that this little house, which sits on the other side of a burn running through the property, may have been the Mill House workers abode. It, like the remains of the mill hidden behind the wooded wall, is delapidated and perhaps not even worth trying to repair. I wondered around this area espying many a ruin and getting quite muddy in the damp undergrowth until I was pretty sure I'd be right on time for dinner. The solace, the serenity, the constant babbling of the burn & the beer all helped get me into a better, if not entirely pleasant, mood. Wastrel On! (Listening To: Serenade Number 13 in G Major by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart)