A concert, not a dance.
We should have been driving to Perth this afternoon to the spring weekend dance class, but instead we were heading to Cumbersheugh Town Hall for a choir concert in memory of June. I’d been in two minds whether to go or not, I’m not a great fan of concerts and I could give good reasons for not going, but as always happens, heart wins over head and I agreed to go.
Earlier in the day, we had lunch in the newly upgraded Broadwood Farm. According to the menu the pizza was topped with mozzarella, but there is a difference between mozzarella and cheddar cheese and the frazzled topping was cheddar. Also, the batter on Scamp’s fish ’n’ chips was a bit oily. Other than that the lunch was fine. Not a great improvement on the original restaurant, but a step in the right direction.
The main event of the day was very well attended and we all had front row seats. It did get a bit emotional at times, but most of the songs were fine. A few of the solos were a bit ropey, but you have to remember that these people are amateurs and are giving up their time to produce these concerts.
I was parked a distance from the hall and offered to bring the car round to the front. Quite a few folk were also walking over to the main car park. We were about halfway there about 9.30pm when out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a bright orange fireball dropping from the sky off to the north east. Another bloke walking in front of me saw it too and shouted “Great balls of fire!” I’m glad he was there or I’d have been doubting myself!
PoD was a bloke on his phone walking down a well trodden path.
Tomorrow we’ve planned an early rise to get to Perth in time to take part in a special Rumba for Rona who died recently after a short illness.