Well then. That was actually quite tough. The observant amongst the congregation will have twigged that things are not where they should be. The Megget Stone has been shifted to Tibbie Shiel's.
On account of the snow.
There is tons of the stuff! We have stumbled from deep hole to deep hole up to our armpits at time. It's exhausting stuff, And - I am a Flatlander. But we are made of sterling stuff. Forged in the fires of ... well,... Windsor.
So, after scaling Birkscairn (that's about 27,000 feet up, that is) we slid (often sliding desperately) around the sides of hills and down, down down through the depths of a snow clogged forest to a wonderful Rover Road.... Which was itself under yet more snow..
But we're 'ard, and stumbled on until we finally won through to the mud of the Southern Upland Way.
But now we are safe and well and in a tea room. We have been joined by Ian Shiel and His Holiness, The Incredibly Irreverend Dave. Fish cakes and roast potatoes have been ordered.
All is well with the world.