...... Even if I was back home after being in the Outer Hebrides, mostly Harris, I would have been either asleep, getting pictures developed, or, generally fannying about, no doubt wearing my aforementioned scarf (see post number 8:
I was probably on a ferry in the Outer Hebrides proudly sporting my brand new red Harris Tweed scarf (yes, red, it was a training piece, and I got to meet who made it!).
It isn't recorded what I had for lunch.
)
I wore that scarf for years, even in summer (I know, but within reason, of course), I loved it, and the fact that I had met the people who had made it meant that it was all the more special (I was seeing Tweed being made in Luskintyre, and the guy (Donald John) recognised it as he had helped make it as a training piece for a woman just starting out making it (hence its uncharacteristically (for Tweed) bright colours), so I went to visit her too!). It eventually went all 'funny' and was uncomfortable to wear (barring the fact it was Tweed, the itchyness of which one gets used too incredibly quickly) so it now lives in a drawer and has the occasional outing.
It cost all of about £6 (yes, for Tweed in its 'natural habitat') from the Post Office in somewhere like Horgabost or Roadel, so was undoubtedly one of my better purchaces ever, even if I had to sew the Harris Tweed label on myself.
I don't think I have ever loved a piece of clothing so much before or since.