I'm working on Repeat #77 of the Princess Shawl Border -- only 8 to go, when I've finished this one. It's now pretty easy; I can do it when sitting in front of un-gripping television, and even while maintaining some sort of conversational presence. But at a certain point in the early evening, tiredness suddenly grips my throat and I know that it is time, right now, to put it down and switch to the Wallaby sleeve. I've done 9 of 12 evenly-spaced increases on that one. I decided last night that the length is going to be all right. Just.

On with the Games...

The afternoon ends with an event called Musical Cars. The organisers tried to replace it with something else once, but the glen rose up, and that didn't happen again.

Some short stakes with flags attached are fixed in the middle of the field. Cars drive around the outer track. Passengers must keep their hands on the dashboard. When the music stops, the passenger leaps out, runs into the centre, and tries to secure a stake. You get the idea.

We've never won. Some years ago there was a glorious breakthrough when James, driving, and Thomas-the-Elder, running, came second. After a longish interval, we had another good one two or three years ago when nephew Theo, driving, and his girlfriend Kristin, running, came third. And again this year: Theo drove, brilliantly, and grandson Joe ran, rather fast. Another second.

A lot depends on luck, or, to put it more cynically, on how much the organiser likes you. It was sadly obvious to us all, when the music stopped for the last time, that Joe was in a position from which he couldn't win, had he been as nimble as swift-footed Achilles.

But second, needless to say, is pretty good. The picture shows Theo and Joe with their prize envelope. Six whole pounds.

There is a cup for the winners of Musical Cars. We remain determined to get our names on it one day.

I'm sure the Queen doesn't have half as much fun as we do, when she turns out annually for the Braemar Games.