Yes, I have to admit that I’ve had it up to here with Brexit.

It’s not good for my health listening to all this stuff about access to single markets, closed borders, bespoke trade deals, transition periods and what the 27 think. Hard or soft? I’ll take scrambled please and get the hell out. Isn’t this quagmire and jungle of political disarray a sure reason to be well shot of Europe and all its costly shenanigans?

The process of suing our St Andrews architect gathers pace as we decided to measure some of the dimensions of the flat ourselves. And the 3.6 metres length in his drawings for the lounge is incorrect. It’s 4.3 metres. Not a great measurement in anyone’s book. In fact materially wrong. Yes, it’s the old chestnut that if you don’t get the survey drawings correct then your plans ain’t going to look that clever. But never mind old boy we’ll pick up the tab to sort out the aborted building works and live in an ad hoc design.

Bitter? me?

No, I have a new lease of life as I managed to get an interview for the Scottish Tourist Guide Course. The kilted caddie may soon be conducting awesome tailor-made tours. Please sign up now as I expect a deluge of interest once I am qualified. Assuming I get through the interview?

My Trump golf article is out with HK Golf so I hope all my numerous and avid blog readers order their copies asap. Ok, I realize that I may have shot myself in the foot with respect to being Donald’s potential caddie when he comes to play the Old? But that is a long shot at the moment anyway. Besides, I’m still banished up at The Castle for my unappreciated scribbling about the R&A. Locks and chains and all.

Bitter? me?

My tips for the week are for Scotland to win the Grand Slam, Theresa May to voluntarily stand down, a Dow Jones crash, Norwich to whitewash Tottenham in the FA Cup, Blacklion to win the Cheltenham Gold Cup, on the proviso that he runs (if he doesn’t run he can’t win), Li Haotong to win The Open with a new Scottish caddie, and of course as always, don’t eat yellow snow.

Witter? Me?

I have had a Damascene moment in the kitchen with my pitching wedge.

Musing over my golf swing and decidedly being of the opinion that the fundamental part is the first foot back in the takeaway, I am now going to focus on my belly. Not in terms of diet of course, but to use my stomach to turn and swing the arms and club away from the ball. Yes, I’ve just been getting a tad too wristy and feel this should do the trick.

We have had some huge quotes come in for the building work at our bistrot development in Edinburgh and I am now of the opinion that building work is a very expensive thing indeed. I daresay if I had my time again I’d be learning a whole load more about roughing, electricals and plumbing works. In fact my accountant says that his plumber is the richest bloke on his books. However, and unfortunately, I am too old and I may just have to shut myself in a room and cultivate my soul now.

I have also had my fill with architects. We are presently initiating a legal claim against our St Andrews architect, after his drawings didn’t appear to fit the site dimensions. He had the audacity to intimate that this didn’t matter from his legal perspective, as we had been granted the building warrant from the council and that’s all we asked him for. Sorry squire that is just not true and you know that. So four grand to get building warrant drawings! and which included two schoolboy error mismeasurements! Listen bud, I didn’t sally up the Forth yesterday.

Well, I am no Sherlock but I would suggest to the architect man that the council would probably be accepting prima facie that the drawings actually fitted the space, and that he has a professional responsibility along those lines? Because that is err, an architects job? (and indeed blow me but maybe it didn’t strike the man but we did intend to carry out the building work. That’s normally why people employ architects. No kidding! We are just not in the game of collecting building warrants per se. So making sure the drawings fit the space was obviously, de facto important).

Or am I missing something here? Just presuming that this should be the case? To measure things correctly?! And if you get an architect to design something that it actually works? Like an auditor wouldn’t sign off on a company’s accounts when it was illiquid! Well unless, I suppose, it’s Carillion and you’re a partner at KPMG? But they employed me for goodness sake!

So I am not a happy Hector with respect to building works and up their arse architects at the moment. In fact, hang building!

The students are dripping back into St Andrews and are perhaps wishing they’d stayed at home as it’s decidedly cold. Still it’s nice to see the fresh, eager young faces. How it makes me hearken back to the fall of 1979. Alas when I was a young bejant!

Anyway a new year is upon us and lets hope it brings bright cheer, a few firsts at Musselburgh, a single digit handicap, weight loss, non rip-off builders and straight architects that can measure properly.

Hope springs eternal or something along those lines!

Poor Scott Kennedy
is dead.

One round a day Scott
Basement flat in Howard Place
Lived alone
Simply, happily.

An orphan
A heart of gold
Gentle, soft spoken, curious
Kind, lovely face.

May your soul now rest in peace.

The purchase of 48 discounted mince pies from St Andrews Sainsburys has not aided the drive towards a trimmer me in 2018. On top of this a rash purchase of brandy cream and several christmas puddings has been disastrous. However, I have at least made a final and painful farewell to peanut butter. But diets are intensely dull.

That aside, things have got off to an ok start. My back has recovered and although I have had a slight chest infection I am now much more mobile and feel the stirrings of recovery, if not the incantations of old age.

My Trump article comes out next month in HK Golf. Good timing as the man does nothing to allay interest in his amazing personage at the moment. I do fancy that Mueller chap is going to get him though. That or some irritated guy from Iran or an African state.

Now things back home are no less interesting. What with Henry Bolton the UKIP chap, having to make a rather tricky choice between heading up the said party and going out with a rather attractive 25 year old blond, albeit with no brain. That could well be the dilemma of the year? I suppose he could always chuck her and carry on a covert relationship while still leading UKIP. He seemed to be pretty adept at this while canvassing for his leadership role.

I am very much taken by the Guido Fawkes site and love their Friday caption contest. I rather fancy my chances with this week’s. It has Theresa and Mike Gove looking eagerly out of a bird watching hut, Theresa in front and peering through binoculars but looking a tad perplexed.

Theresa: ‘Is that a coq up that tree Michael?’
Michael: ‘No, it’s just Boris trying to be clever and get on News at Six again’

Oh dear. Sorry! Well now you’ll know if my blog is for you or not? This is rather challenged humour.

But we must carry on. My book ‘The Private Life of Humphrey Earnest Eccles Hornblower’ will be out soon. And rather sooner if you will be so good to cough up a hundred and five quid for an advanced copy.

Tidings.

ps tips for the day. Don’t eat yellow snow and Clandau Bisto in the 2.30pm at Plumpton.

(All heavy going).

I see the Queen has missed me out on the old peerage list again. Bit of a poor show, as I was well up to becoming a crossbencher (in fact a very cross one), and sit next to some of my old chums from the City and bygone days. I was quite fancying a weekly jaunt down to London and getting out to a few old haunts too, not to mention my daily allowance and travel expenses.

It’s about time they had a few caddies in the House, just like they should be getting a few into the R&A. I don’t see why not? In fact I will gladly be the first to be ‘put up’. I figure I could make a bit of a splash there, especially after a long lunch and a couple bottles of that lovely house claret. In fact, I must say, I would like to investigate that en primeur wine list in more detail. Full and immediate membership status would be the answer.

Imagine what a symbolic act it would be though? If they were to weigh up having me against say Mr Trump? Now that would be an interesting vote if it came to it. I wonder if Trump would try a ‘Russian job’ on it? and have a free invite for all R&A members out to Mar-a-Lago for a bit of a knees up. You know first class flights, nice food and accommodation, some two ball foursomes, large G&T’s (with Fever Tree tonic) and a bit of that fervent backslapping going on.

I may be well up against it in that situation, as all I can offer would be a wee walk across to the St Andrews Club for a Penman’s pie and mash, few pints of Belhaven, game of snooker and possibly dominoes if they are out. This is in no way to underestimate a Penman’s pie by the way!

But yeh. I reckon I would have about as much chance as I now have. Nevertheless, I do have a wee article coming out which may cause the powers to be, to consider my position more closely. But we will see? I’m sure Old Tom would very much like my idea and be most sympathetic indeed. In fact, I’m pretty sure he would have no problem with me getting to kiss the captain’s balls whatsoever? In fact, like I would. Indeed give me a few glasses of claret and I’ll do most things.

Maybe they could start by ‘putting up’ Oliver Horowitz? Caddie, New York Times best selling list author, two handicap and first class Harvard man. And then me shortly after.

Caddie, seven hit a day blogger with dodgy golf swing and a dubious ‘Desmond’ from St Andrews!

ps new members to the R&A have to ‘kiss the captain’s balls’ at their inauguration dinner, during The Autumn Meeting.