So Happy Holidays to all. With sons James and Ben it is spent underwater in Okinawa, which is a bit like eyeless in Gaza. Xmas day is cold and windy but what do we care because we come from Scotland and ergo have no physical sensation and only little more emotional.
It seems that one almost unique feature is the second skin body hug thing which attracts and excites so many about latex.
We go diving in high winds and fairly big surf but it is fun.
Deck the hall with boughs of holly
Today however it is very Xmassy – bright sunshine, blue skies, 20 degrees. We go to Sunabe which is the freakiest place. Very built up, US military jets screaming overhead, concrete blocks, but once underwater you are in David Attenborough.
As shepherds watched their flocks
Torches, torches run with torches all the way to Bethlehem
Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin flew away
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Pray you, dutifully prime Your matin chime, ye ringers; May you beautifully rime Your evetime song, ye singers.
“Bring me flesh and bring me wine
Bring me pine logs hither
Thou and I will see him dine
When we bear him thither.”
Page and monarch forth they went
Forth they went together
Through the rude wind’s wild lament
And the bitter weather
The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond 
Re:Scottish. I found a book of poems in Sainsbury’s (Supermarket) with an extract from “The Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle” by Hugh MacDiarmid 1892-1978.
The language that but sparely flooers
And maistly gangs to weed;
The thocht of Christ and Calvary
Aye likkening in my heid;
And aa the dour provincial thocht
That merks the Scottish breed
– These are the thistle’s characters
To argie there’s nae need.
Hoo weel my verse embodies
The thistle you can read!
– But will a Scotsman never
Frae this vile growth be freed?—
Think I catch his drift — But whae’s like us?