Church starts a little later in Orkney. 11.15am which is considerably later than what I grew used to back in Cambs where we started at 10.30am for service and if I was singing then I was (supposed) to be there for 9.30am. I'm told the later starts up here was traditionally to enable farmers to get their milking done before church and presumably before modern milking equipment. 11.15 seemed to me so humanly late for a Sunday morning that I never imagined I would be like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland (pictured) But sure enough we make the time fit the job (or is it the job fit the time?) and still now I find myself rushing at the last minute to get the kids ready, screaming at them 'wash face, clean teeth, get your shoes on we're going to be late' followed by us tearing down the road (within the speed limit of course!), parking, flying up the steps and into church and trying to look composed knowing that once again we have broken the speed of sound as we politely wish others a good morning. The same goes for Elliot's school which starts at 9.30am. 'No problem' I said. I was used to getting him to school as early as 8 previously so I could go on to work and that included a ten minute drive. Surely now school started so late here and was on the doorstep, I would have time to bake, wash the kitchen floor or do the ironing before even needing to wake dear son. Not so. The words are pretty much the same 'wash face, clean teeth etc.... Then I send him on his way offering up a silent prayer of thanks for the speedy scooter which gets him there just before the bell. The only day left for it not to be an issue is Saturdays when I'm guaranteed never late for my lie in. My dad is a stickler for time and has never been or ever will be late for anything ever. I guess I take after my mum!
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