Buckie, Scotland, is about 230 miles north of Glasgow and this is the first view that we had of the town. When we left Glasgow the outside temperature showed 12 degrees by the time that we reached Buckie it had dropped to 5 degrees.

This is the hotel where we stayed, on the main road between Fochabers and Buckie, and dates back to the early 18th century, the skies were blue. The chefs, "Venison and Mushroom" pie is fantabulous.

The water is the North sea, today it is at peace unlike the day that we arrived when waves were breaking over the sea wall that surrounds the harbour.

Hiya Friends, and other readers, just back from my short break in Buckie, loads of posts to catch up with, so for now, three jokes that may have you smiling.

HER DIARY:
>
> Saturday 20th October 2007
>
> Saw him in the evening and he was acting really strangely. I went
> shopping in the afternoon with the girls and I did turn up a bit
> late
> so thought it might be that.
>
> The bar was really crowded and loud so I suggested we go somewhere
> quieter to talk. He was still very subdued and distracted so I
> suggested we go somewhere nice to eat.
>
> All through dinner he just didn't seem himself; he hardly laughed
> and
> didn't seem to be paying any attention to me or to what I was
> saying.
> I just knew that something was wrong.
>
> He dropped me back home and I wondered if he was going to come in;
> he
> hesitated but followed. I asked him again if there was something
> the
> matter but he just half shook his head and turned the television
> on.
>
> After about 10 minutes of Silence, I said I was going upstairs to
> bed. I put my arms around him and told him that I loved him
> deeply.
> He just gave a sigh and a sad sort of smile. He didn't follow me
> up
> but later he did, and I was surprised when we made love. He still
> seemed distant and a bit cold, and I started to think that he was
> going to leave me and that he had found someone else. I cried
> myself
> to sleep.
>
>
>
> HIS DIARY:
>
> Saturday 20th October 2007
>
> Scotland lost. Gutted. Got a shag though.

===========================================================

Fresh from my shower, I stood in front of the mirror complaining to my
husband that my breasts are too small.

Instead of romantically telling me this is not true, he
uncharacteristically comes up with a suggestion: "If you want your
Breasts to grow, then take a piece of toilet paper and rub it between
them for a few seconds every day"

Willing to try anything, I got a piece of toilet paper and stood in
front of the mirror, rubbing it between my breasts.
How long will this take?" I asked.
They will grow larger over a period of years," my husband replies.

I stopped. "Do you really think rubbing a piece of toilet paper between
my breasts every day will make my breasts larger over the years?"

Without missing a beat he said "Worked for your bum, didn't it?"

He's still alive, and with a great deal of therapy, he may even walk
again although he will probably continue to take his meals through a
straw.

Stupid, stupid man

====================================================================

This is clever and you have possibly read it before, but, may be worth repeating for those fresh to this tale.

The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, "Well, I'm off now. The man should be here soon."

Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, Ma'am", he said, "I've come to..."

"Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've been expecting you."

"Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know babies are my specialty?"

"Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat".

After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"

"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there."

"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and me!"

"Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results."

"My, that's a lot!", gasped Mrs. Smith.

"Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be In and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that."

"Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly.

The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus," he said.

"Oh, my word!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.

"And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with."

"She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look"

"Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.

"Yes", the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in."

Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your, uh...equipment?"

"It's true, Ma'am, yes.. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away."

"Tripod?"

"Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big to be held in the hand very long."
Mrs. Smith fainted