Over the piece, since I last reported, my good friend Hector
has settled back into the wee white cottage up the wee country lane.

I see him every other day pottering around his garden,
planting and potting, shifting soil and shifting it back again.
Hector is nothing if not thorough.

Last week, sitting at my wee bamboo table, through my binoculars
I spied him laying a nice wee red chip path.  It was a nice day and
a good opportunity for me to introduce my wee two year old
grandson Michael to him. The wee fella and I walked up the wee
lane towards Hector's hoose sort of two steps forward and wan
step back, Michael dictating the pace all the way.

Eventually we reached Hector's gate and I called out.
"Haw, Hector...are ye in man."  I did this thrice.
"Aye Rab, haud oan ah've goat this bliddy cat oot the back here,
peein in my radishes."  This sounded like a minor calamity and I
resolved never to eat any of Hector's radishes.

"Aye so this is the wee lad then, man but he's a bonnie wee fella,
I suppose he's too young tae taste wan o' my new line in Boilings."

"Ye're no intae the Boilings again Hector?", I  asked.

"Come and see this." He motioned us round to the back garden and
sure enough, sitting there in all its glory was a brand new wee van,
with a braw hand painted sign exclaiming tae the world,
"Hector's Famous Copper Kettle Boilings", and a wee rhyme that said.
"East, West, you've tasted the rest. Hector's Boilings are the best."

The sign, which I must admit was done tastefully in cream and green,
was repeated above his shed, with the addition of the words,
'Head Office and Factory"

Michael, my wee grandson toddled up the wee path and
pushed open the door of the Head Office and Factory.
Sure enough, it was plain to see that manufaucturing of boxed sets
of Copper Kettle Boilings was in process, with the addition of a
new range of Hector's Copper Kettle Toffee Apples to be sold
at outlets in the Barras and at Coatbridge Market.

"My god, Hector, yer takin' this Boilings business
very seriously now." I remarked.  I was fair impressed.

"Ye can say that again Rab.
Ah've even goat Letter Headins and business cards noo.
Look....take wan.  In fact take two an' gie wan tae the wean."

I could tell that this was the old enthusiastic Hector,
bursting out everywhere with ideas.

"Ye know whit Rab, I've applied for wan o' they export
licences tae market ma Copper Kettle Boilings in the US of A"

This prompted thoughts of "Copper Kettle Black Strippit Baws",
further inquiry revealing that these were indeed in the pipeline,
so to speak. At this point I mentioned to him that an eccentric
American lady Elaine Goldberg or something from Colorado
had caught wind o' his Black Strippit Baws and kept plaguing
me for samples.

"I durnae gie oot samples mind. If the American Food an'
Drugs Agency were tae fun oot thur wid be nae export licence.
Nah Rab, yon's too risky. By the way, a've goat ither lines noo tae.
Jube-Jubes, aye...Jube-Jubes.
In fact a'll gie yie a poke o' thaim fur the wean.
Here try wan o' these son"

Michael took an orange and green Jube-Jube
with a polite wee 'thank you'.

"Oh, look here Hector, look at the time.
It's time we were making tracks."
It was half past four and we set off back doon
the wee country lane towards my house.

As soon as we stepped ahint the door Irene said,
"An' whaur hae you two been.?
An' wha's been plying the wean wi' Jube-Jubes?"

"It's a lang story Hen.  Yer no gonnae believe me.
Hiv ye ever heard o' Copper Kettle Boilings.....
well.....ye soon will.  Is that no' right son!"

Glenallan
---------