The old gnarled countryman looked knowledgeably at the sky-'yes it will be raining within 5 minutes' he said. The OGCs day job is the head greenkeeper at the Duns Golf Club and the recipient of this local knowledge, Huttonian was poised on the first tee with a round of golf ahead of him and no protective gear in his light summer bag. Surely the OGC knew more about the local elements than the nice Mr Deakin with his sharp suit and his state of the art graphics. Young Alec had promised not a drop of rain until well after lunch. 'Right Wet it will be' said the OGC with great satisfaction putting on his oilskins and climbing into the cab of his tractor sheltered from the elements by thick bullet prooof glass and a large bottle of Whisky. The black clouds on the wet wind darkened. What to do. 'Trust Deakin' said a phantom voice some where above me and hidden in the mist. 'OGCountrymen are often bags of wind. Play on'

I did.

Deakin was right. So was the Guy in the Sky

And the last glimpse I had of the OGC was him climbing down from his tractor racing for the cover of a tree desperately pulling down his heavy oilskins as he ran. Too much whisky on too small a bladder seemed to be the urgency. But oilskins are washable. Fortunately.  ¶ 6:14 PM