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Tomatoes and Dumpling

Okay, so it’s now well and truly the weekend. I’ve not done the chores I’ve promised yet, and I need to spend some time outside. It’s a crisp,sunny,fresh, afternoon and I’ve already finished 2 paper rounds and made everyone breakfast. I suggest a walk in the air, but soon realise we’ll have to drive to get anywhere a bit exciting. A few seconds after setting off I notice that I only have 20 miles in the tank so this comfortably restricts our movements. ‘The Dumpling!’ I say.
“Ohh, daaaaad! Not agaaaiiin!”
“Yes, again,” I confirm, and we are on our way.
The Dumpling, a 200ft lump of granite stranded a few yards from Gartocharn (pronounced – Garto-Harn), is the perfect viewpoint to see the partially frozen Loch Lomond. Now, the last time Loch Lomond was frozen over, my Mum did this Viking, survival of the fittest thing and pushed me, in my pram, like a lump of blue hone granite, towards the middle of the loch, and presumably the thin bits. I would either be consigned to the depths or… Well. I’m still here, so I presume the gods looked on me favourably. By the way, the view from the Dumpling is ‘to die for’.
After trudging up with Betsy, our flat-coat retriever, nutter, dog; Joe, Emma, Justine, Ruthy and the Tiny, we all decide to go for a swim etc at Cameron House.
First changed, Ruthy and myself venture out to take some rare pics of the Frozen Loch. It’s fairly solid, all the way from the Cameron House jetty to Balloch Park,
Go home, listless and ready for some rocket, sun dried tomatoes and Parmesan salad.
Look in the hall mirror – still fat – oh yes – the 9 ferrero rocher might have something to do with that, but I was so hungry after all that swimming and stuff.
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