Typical Bank Holiday

The banks might’ve been on holiday but the gallant lads and lassies of KPB were working their socks off. Wee Jo had arranged a Morrisons bagpack fundraiser for Albert, and Pipey wanted as many there as possible so the rules for tardiness and forgetfulness were in abeyance. Clock was unaware of this and had raced from home with Emma Tenor’s beaters to avoid a fine, his sneaky plan to drop her off and go back to bed had backfired and he was captured for the day.

I arrived early and sat outside like Billy Naemates sending out forlorn tweets for a friend. Tweedy and Basso were lurking in the café so I made my way there and found Mags being Billy Naemates at the other side of the entrance. Bandsfolk were arriving thick and fast and all we needed was Isy with the collecting buckets. The Late Mrs Hardy arrived with time to spare.  As we headed outside to tune up I spotted Clock manning a checkout and warming up his sales spiel.

After a short set we all headed inside to man the checkouts and pack the groceries, there is a lot of Prosecco bought in Johnstone you know. While wee lassies struggled with mountains of groceries the bold Rich E had bagged the ’10 Items or Less’ aisle and was making it look easy.  During our sojourn at the packing Mikey was playing a solo set just inside the main door and it sounded sublime, just the right volume to fill the store and encourage shoppers to dig deep and fill our buckets. The wee Wummin on the Customer Services desk wasnae havin it though and had him banished to the car park. I’d been telling folk he was doing requests, if the band hadn’t headed out for a second set I think he would still be playing. During our second set Emma Tenor became Emma Snare after a bit of harness swapping and drum theft. I think we managed to play the Competition set in under 2 minutes.

As the day wore on players arrived and departed as schedules permitted, the banter was constant however and the steady clink as coins of the realm dropped into our greedy buckets gladdened the heart. To the person who dropped in the Euro, “Thanks, it’ll come in handy in France.” The trolley token is being dusted for prints.

As the Pipey dismissed us and the trapezoid right turned and fell out it was decided that the time had come to call it a day and word was sent down the line to the packers. The buckets were collected and given to Isy for counting.

Thanks to everyone who turned out to help, even Evan, who should be reported for leaving Lewis in a locked car with no windows open. A special thanks to all the aunties and maws n da’s who turn up for everything.

We can leave Saturday behind us and look at Sunday now. I was 100% more hungover than on the Saturday. We were playing at the Cardwell Garden Centre open day and I’d secured a lift with Big Mick which was just as well as I wasn’t fit to drive. It took some serious searching to find the rest of the band who were hiding in a goods delivery yard up a close. We tuned our drones, the drummers waited. We checked our chanters, they waited some more. James the Hat was looking fragile but he’d been at the same whisky spree as myself and had good cause. Even though this was a fun day it would be rude not to put on a show and we certainly put on a show; the Farewell to the Creeks/ Battle of the Somme mash up, Isy’s phone ringing just as Pipey was about to count us in, a made up on the hoof rendition of Amazing Grace, Cock o the North for the first time, Mikey catching his drones on a tree and nearly vanishing into the shrubs.

There were owls n heilan dancing n face painting n ice cream n 4 day old rabbits; all the fun of the fair. Thankfully there was coffee, baked fish and more coffee. The weather was glorious and the views stunning, thanks to the staff for looking after us and to Ross for removing a drum from Big Micks car or myself and the Medic were walking home so he could get his new table and chairs onboard.

The grand total for the bagpack was just shy of £1400. Next up is Lilias Day.

Cannae wait..


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