Thwack-a-thwack-thwack-a-thwack-a-thwack-A-THWACK-A-THWACK-A-THWACK.
That, as the eagle eared among you (or something like that) will surely know, is the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching.
This particular helicopter was carrying a very special cargo.
It was carrying the Ryder Cup.
Golfers from Europe will take on those from the mighty US of A later this month at Gleneagles. The winning captain will then be the toast of his or her (just trying to be fair, it will be his, no women involved you see) continent when they lift the iconic silverware aloft while bellowing HURRAH (or YYYYYYEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS if it is the more uncouth Americans).
In other news we talk to the very much in love couple whose love lock unwittingly set up a crazy for loved-up lovers.
There’s a whole lotta love out there, and much of it is manifest on the Forth Bridge where countless love locks have been placed.
A love lock is a padlock, whose locking together represents the very tender bond shared by two people. Which really is lovely stuff.
Little did the first people to snap a lock on the iconic structure think they would start such a huge trend. But they did. So we spoke to them about how that makes them feel. And the answer was “lovely”.
Full story in Thursday’s Courier.
Yet I am afraid to say your favourite paper has also been touched by sadness.
It is our painful duty to report on the sad demise of Peat, the distillery cat at Glenturret.
The poor little mite had been brought in to follow in the footsteps of the legendary mouser Towser. Sadly the reign did not last long. Which is very upsetting.
Of course, we would not be doing our duty (though we may be doing you a favour…) if we did not report on all the very latest in this bally referendum battle.
Cameron putting passion into his plea for Scotland to stay, Brian Cox putting the case for Scotland to split, Prescott putting his foot in his mouth.
We have it all. And more. Much more. Yards of it.
Missing out on all of the above, and so much more, will leave you utterly devastated. Which would be a ghastly state of affairs. Please do make sure you snap up Thursday’s Courier. Failing that why the Dickens not try our digital edition?