This evening, we decided to go back to the beach for a barbecue.
When we got there, Ruaridh popped into the water one last time (!) while Struan did his chef-y thing:
There he is in the dunes firing that barbie up.
By the time Ruaridh returned, the sausages were sizzling, the burgers were bubbling, the bacon was browning and the sweet potato wedges were doing sweet potato all. Not (as you might say) a sausage. One of the evening's minor disappointments. The other, it's worth saying, was Co-op own brand marshmallows. Good for insulating your loft, perhaps, but rubbish for barbecuing. Or eating in any way really.
The boys were in contemplative mood, caught up in the vibe of the day.
They were so chilled and at peace with the world that we simply had to pay a game of car puns.
"Datsun-other burger ready to eat."
"Vauxhall the fuss about the chips? They're crap."
"Mazda cooked this for ages - it's a bit burned."
Struan decided this was both childish and dull so decided to finish the game with 'Honda completely different subject, look at the sky..."
As we cleared up, the moon rose. The photo doesn't do it justice.
Struan was perplexed about how to get all the rubbish down to the bins ("Ferrari all the black bags?")
Eventually he found them. We drifted back to the car. Ruaridh was humming quietly to himself. "Citroen on the dock of the bay," if I caught it correctly.
It was Saab enchanted evening right enough.