Our neighbor Scottie has me a bit worried. He admits that he’s quite smitten with Jamie and has told several neighbors that he has a foolproof scheme to do away with me and then take my place.
He has been understandably hesitant about sharing the details with me, but informed sources say it has something to do with stabbing me in the back with an icicle so that all the evidence melts away.
I’m pretty sure that the only thing that’s kept me alive so far is the Barossa’s temperate climate.
One day Scottie was carrying on about his future with Jamie when I said, “Hey, you gotta get in line, buddy. There are about eight guys in front of you.”
His response? “At least I’m in the queue.”
This is what happened when I handed Scottie my phone and asked him to take a photo of Jamie and me.
Hey, he’s behind me!
You’re at the front of the line, Raymundo.
I should amend that comment slightly. You’re at the top of the line as far as I’m concerned. I can’t speak for Jamie.
Gorgeous as ever.