The Beavers, Cubs and Scouts go to Loch an Eilein

 ... I wouldn't call myself a superstitious person. Nevertheless, looking back now, it might almost seem as if Friday the 13th of June marked a turning point in the year ...

That was the evening you went to Loch an Eilein with the Beavers, Cubs and Scouts. You kicked off with the sponsored walk. Followed by a barbeque. And then the overnight camp for the Scouts. You were thrilled at the prospect and off you went with your sleeping bag, rucksack, suntan lotion, hay fever tablets, midgie repellent and a proper spring in your step. But what was the one thing we forgot to pack? That's right, your Scout shirt! You didn't mention it and I never thought of it. Which is why you weren't wearing it when Frances came to take the picture for the newspaper that evening.

Saturday morning I was outside fighting the weeds, not expecting you back for another hour. Then, all at once, there you were coming down the drive with your bags of kit and looking rather glum. What was up? Had something gone wrong? You nodded. Right at the very end, after all the fun, Skip had slipped over playing rounders and broken his ankle. What a sad end to such a great time together.

We came back into the house and had baked potatoes and talked about the way that unfortunate accidents like that can sometimes happen. Ninety nine out of a hundred times Skip would have got up, dusted himself off, grinned and said, "What a silly fellow am I!" And then you would all have had a good laugh and carried on with the game. Unfortunately for Skip on this particular occasion, it didn't turn out that way.