Call from Edinburgh left me distracted

Since the long gone time of my ancestor Stuttering Mickie, who had the power to billet rats on farms which were not his own, and Lepping Larry, about whose morals even I cannot speak in a family newspaper today, there is a slew of hard evidence that all the MacConnell clan are as cracked as a cheap boarding house egg.

As a neighbour of ours called Cutler stated long ago, we tend to march to our own drumbeat. I freely confess to that pure truth.

On the other hand, there are occasional brief flickers of kinda psychic stuff, and I encountered one of those during a telephone call from brother Cathal in Edinburgh a half-hour ago.