I should know better

A bit of a lost week, the last one - Sonja came down with multiple infections, my vet had to be pressured into giving an appropriate antibiotic, and I have been nursing round the clock. A bad time.

But she`s getting better, so yesterday I came out blinking into the light of day and headed to the chilly, windswept market.

And here`s where we descend into the local criminal underworld. I was looking for DVDs of certain current children`s blockbuster films out in the cinema right now. And I wasn`t going to wait till next Christmas for them. To be specific, I was looking for Big George and his pirate DVD stall.

It`s a funny thing, this "big" title. Scotsmen - I must put this delicately - while not exactly vertically challenged, are not world famous for being tall. But they all like to be called "big". I know Big Tam the taxi driver, Big John who runs the local fabric shop, Big Jim - I could go on and on and, whisper it, none of these men is exactly all that big. The classic Scottish honorific with which to offer respect is "Big Man" . In fact the only local exception I can think of was Wee Skin the barber - and he committed suicide.......

Anyway, I slogged on round the windswept freezing market, hunting for a seedy stall run by a furtive guy with a big cardboard box of DVDs. No luck. At last Big Andy, selling cut-price fags, provenance unknown, enlightened me. No Christmas kiddy films this year.

I went on home, pondering how to explain to two seriously disappointed little girls on Christmas Day the concept of "at present helping the police with their enquiries".....