While I was being dive-bombed by grouse, stared at by horses, running around in the moonlight with my camera, feeding hordes of ducks and enjoying my new hat in the hills around Braemar a cheque fell on the doormat on Saturday morning.
I invoiced this customer in August, I am speechless. Like my old man said, I don’t mind mind working for my money but I shouldn’t be fighting for it. I mean, they even timed posting the cheque so that they’d have another couple of days enjoying my September’s wages as I won’t get to the bank until Monday.
Folk don’t seem to realise that paying self employed people isn’t handing over fun money to spend at the fair, it’s what we use to eat, clothe and shelter ourselves and our families as well as pay for the materials, fuel and time spent to fix your stuff. Bastards.
Anyway, they don’t have a hat like mine, so I’m the winner. Had a fine weekend, tent’s hanging up, washing machine and kettle are both on and odd as it may seem I’m actually at 2818ft in that shot below, the tammy’s at 2824ft of course.