Lame Wednesday

The great university quest stuttered ever onwards with a thoroughly useless trip to the museum on Chambers Street. This consisted of turning up, wandering around a gallery for fifteen minutes, then another, then another, and then buggering off. Right, and? I felt bad for the tutor who had been sent to take our group round. He seemed like a friendly bloke but even he was evidently rather embarassed by the general lameness of it all.

I guess it wasn't entirely devoid of merit though, since I found a rather nifty quote. It's taken from conventicle tokens used by the Covenanters (excitable Presbyterian groups in seventeenth century Scotland):

Give me thy Hart
I am the Vine
I am the Wey
I am the bred of Lyfe
Holiness to the Lord

I'm planning on rewording parts of that to use in the Annan pitch, and probably in the whole thing should a minor miracle happen and it gets accepted.