Exsanguinating Rita

Just think, by next week, ElizabethsDad could be a foreigner! Would we be better off without the Scots in the Union? They gave us deep-fried Mars Bars, the Jock Strap and the inability to say "Burglar Alarm", and they've got our secret nuclear base anyway.
News reaches me of a new service for those mourners too short of time to attend the send-off. The Paradise Funeral Chapel in Michigan has installed a drive-through viewing bay. You drive up, press the button and a curtain opens for 3 minutes accompanied by sombre music. I guess you have to hope you get the right corpse and don't try to order a burger with fries.
At school we are now learning the violin, or vile din as it is sometimes named by some people. We may get to scrape en masse at the end-of-year play, something potential audience members should consider.
Luckily we had enough time before Gymnastics to visit Stamshaw Adventure Playground. It's very big and complicated and relies more on topiary and topology than giant set-up frames, but it does have a decent pirate ship and some tunnels with an old shipping container.
They also have a wide range of old tyres and a herb garden and a splashpark (no water) and a handy motorway just over the verge.
We chased and rolled tyres at each other (until tired) and ate blackberries from the security hedge and didn't learn any new words from the delightful locals because I've seen so many Arnold S movies.