Listening to: Skye (Runrig)
Reading: The Scotsman
Weather: windy, a bit wet
They're working themselves into a frenzy on the radio, BBC Scotland's news was awash with tartan, the papers are full of it - it's the biggest game ever ever ever. Apparently.
There's even a little ripple of excitement here on Orkney, where folk are nominally Scottish, racially Norwegian, but Orcadian by preference. So, never one to miss out on a good party, I'm shamelessly jumping on the Tartan Army bandwagon for the evening.
For those who have little or no interest in the 'beautiful' game, Scotland need to win this evening to qualify for next year's European Championships. All they have to do is beat the reigning world champions Italy. . . how hard can it be?
Big snag for me is that the game is on Sky, everyone's favourite London-based Broadcasting Corporation having decided to bid only for England's games. My local is closed until Monday when Mr and Mrs Hotel Proprietor return from holiday and the hotel in the village doesn't have satellite.
I think I may have to resort to getting out my old Subbuteo set and plotting the course of the game, while listening to Radio Scotland.
Wild times in the UK's outer reaches.