Here's a little intelligence test for you:
You are meeting a passenger at Edinburgh airport who's arriving on a plane from Duesseldorf, Germany. Where do you wait?
A) Domestic Arrivals
B) International Arrivals
If you answer B, you are a total moron, you idiot. International Arrivals is for planes that come from abroad, ok? Well duh.
I could not believe it. There I was with my little sign, waiting. The arrivals monitor showed the Duesseldorf flight landing slightly early, then said "Waiting for luggage", then "Luggage in hall". People came out and other people holding signs greeted them and led them away. An old lady was brought out in a wheelchair ... but no, she was someone else's old lady.
Finally I approached the information desk.
"Oh the Duesseldorf plane comes in through Domestic Arrivals." Apparently it stops in Birmingham. "So why does it say 'Duesseldorf' on the arrivals monitor?" Shrug.
I hustled down to the other end of the airport to the scrum at Domestic Arrivals, scanned anxiously for a lost-looking old lady. "No, dear, but I am waiting for someone..." said one candidate.
I went back to information and asked them to page my missing Duesseldorfer. No nibbles.
Here there's an interlude of frenzied phoning activity -- I called the train company to see if I could find out if she'd gone to the station under her own steam, they gave me a number that wasn't answered no matter how long I left it. I phoned the family the visitor is staying with to see if she'd phoned them. I had her paged again.
The host suggested she may have got off in Birmingham, so I went to the British Airways desk. While there I suggested that it might be nice to have had some indication that the Duesseldorf plane was a Domestic Arrival. "It's on the board in Domestic Arrivals," she said crossly. Of course, I should have looked there rather than think the monitor at International Arrivals meant anything.
By now I'd had her paged enough times to suspect she'd gone to the railway station but I didn't want to leave until I was sure. So I rang the train company again a few times before finally getting a human being. She took my details and said she'd phone me back. I bought an espresso and tried to chill. She phoned and said yes, the woman I was meeting had got the train I was supposed to be ferrying her to.
Great. I phoned her hosts with the good news, finished my espresso and went to get my car.
I'd parked in the one-hour car park because that's how long I was going to be. I'd been there three hours. It cost me £8. EIGHT POUNDS!!!
I had been thinking I would return the hosts' gift voucher, seeing as how I didn't complete their task. But jeez, Louise ... I think with all the phone calls and sweating and scurrying and then the huge parking fee, I deserve a little treat.
I'm quite pleased the mystery visitor made it to the train station under her own steam, without fuss (I hope). Always nice to see someone exceeding expectations. And I was also pleased that I didn't lose my temper once, not even with the British Airways airheads.
After the airport fiasco I had to go into town anyway to take bits of my old computer to the computer shop to be inserted in my new computer(!!!!!), traffic horrendous, and back out to walk Bertie.
I'm now in an advanced state of exhaustion, soggy with lack of sleep and running around.
31 May 2001
I finally went shopping for a new computer, or rather for a new base unit. It was great to order up just what I want, and get a brilliant setup (I hope) for less than I would have paid for a whole new system. Plus the firm I'm buying it for will install the internal bits I'm keeping -- modem and scsi card -- for free. I have to take them in tomorrow ... which means I kind of have to take them out tonight, ahem. Then I have the weekend to quickly back up the last few bits and pieces ... just email and photos and stuff ... before the new unit arrives. A 40Gb hard drive! I remember when 40Mb seemed amazing. Now you'd only think that was whizzy if it was in an MP3 player or something. I'll have 256Mb of memory and a 1Gb chip, so I'll be cooking with gas!!
It's a drastic solution to a crashing computer, but what the hell. I'll be able to update the website without rebooting three times.
I had a great couple of days off, lots of walking and eating. I did another BBQ while Andrew was here -- chicken marinated in soya sauce, olive oil and garlic. It is soooooo delicious and dead easy. And of course it smells fantastic while it's cooking.
On Monday we went for a walk around the loch at Linlithgow -- it's only little so it's not a major trek -- and on our way round met a man who used to race greyhounds at "flapping tracks" -- unofficial dog racing. We had a long and fascinating conversation. He was full of praise for Bertie, said he's the right weight, "fighting weight, like a boxer", has lovely feet, nice legs, a good head and a "long cast" -- his back. Best of all, he said, he looks happy and fit.
He said he kept all his dogs after they finished racing but didn't have any now -- he has a terrier. He said there's a bit of bad practice on the tracks, doping and that.
"I didn't do that ... well, I did experiment with it once..."
"Oh, it's all coming out now, Tam," his wife murmured.
"But that dog never ran again."
"What a shame," I said.
"Shame on me, for doing that. I learned a lesson, but it was the dog paid the price."
He gave dietary advice, which I'm pretty much ignoring. No way am I going to "bile up a pot o cabbage" for Bertie. He also recommended a breakfast of Weetabix and milk, with a raw egg broken into it. Hmm, maybe. I'm wary of upsetting Bertie's digestion, though -- using the poop scoop is bad enough on a good day.
It's a drastic solution to a crashing computer, but what the hell. I'll be able to update the website without rebooting three times.
I had a great couple of days off, lots of walking and eating. I did another BBQ while Andrew was here -- chicken marinated in soya sauce, olive oil and garlic. It is soooooo delicious and dead easy. And of course it smells fantastic while it's cooking.
On Monday we went for a walk around the loch at Linlithgow -- it's only little so it's not a major trek -- and on our way round met a man who used to race greyhounds at "flapping tracks" -- unofficial dog racing. We had a long and fascinating conversation. He was full of praise for Bertie, said he's the right weight, "fighting weight, like a boxer", has lovely feet, nice legs, a good head and a "long cast" -- his back. Best of all, he said, he looks happy and fit.
He said he kept all his dogs after they finished racing but didn't have any now -- he has a terrier. He said there's a bit of bad practice on the tracks, doping and that.
"I didn't do that ... well, I did experiment with it once..."
"Oh, it's all coming out now, Tam," his wife murmured.
"But that dog never ran again."
"What a shame," I said.
"Shame on me, for doing that. I learned a lesson, but it was the dog paid the price."
He gave dietary advice, which I'm pretty much ignoring. No way am I going to "bile up a pot o cabbage" for Bertie. He also recommended a breakfast of Weetabix and milk, with a raw egg broken into it. Hmm, maybe. I'm wary of upsetting Bertie's digestion, though -- using the poop scoop is bad enough on a good day.
27 May 2001
I just had to go and fiddle about with the settings -- it seems blogger.com's Blogspot server had a problem. All better now, but I think this blogspot had been down for a while.
Anyway yes, Bertie was rummaging under his favourite bush looking for rabbits this afternoon when a deer burst out of the undergrowth and rushed past us. I thought Bertie might chase it, but he just stared at it and went back to the rabbit hunt. Roe deer aren't very big, but this one was still a lot bigger than him and it had antlers. My next-door neighbour said she saw a deer in her back garden a few years ago, so they do get around. But it would have to cross roads (or jump 15ft fences) to get into the field from open land.
On this morning's walk, Bertie nearly pulled me off my feet chasing after ... a rock. But it could have been a hedgehog, it was the same shape, size and colour.
Rock
Hedgehog
See? It's a mistake anyone could make.
I had a barbecue last night, and it was great. I got three disposable BBQs -- tinfoil dishes filled with charcoal and fitted with a grille -- and fired one up, cooked myself a salmon fillet. Yum! I'm going to make a habit of it, maybe do some vege kebabs as well next time.
Bertie became hysterical when I lit the barbie -- the flames take about 20 minutes to die down. He must just despair of me sometimes. Here I was completely ignoring the fact that the garden was ON FIRE, even though he was barking his head off right next to the blaze.
Anyway yes, Bertie was rummaging under his favourite bush looking for rabbits this afternoon when a deer burst out of the undergrowth and rushed past us. I thought Bertie might chase it, but he just stared at it and went back to the rabbit hunt. Roe deer aren't very big, but this one was still a lot bigger than him and it had antlers. My next-door neighbour said she saw a deer in her back garden a few years ago, so they do get around. But it would have to cross roads (or jump 15ft fences) to get into the field from open land.
On this morning's walk, Bertie nearly pulled me off my feet chasing after ... a rock. But it could have been a hedgehog, it was the same shape, size and colour.
Rock
Hedgehog
See? It's a mistake anyone could make.
I had a barbecue last night, and it was great. I got three disposable BBQs -- tinfoil dishes filled with charcoal and fitted with a grille -- and fired one up, cooked myself a salmon fillet. Yum! I'm going to make a habit of it, maybe do some vege kebabs as well next time.
Bertie became hysterical when I lit the barbie -- the flames take about 20 minutes to die down. He must just despair of me sometimes. Here I was completely ignoring the fact that the garden was ON FIRE, even though he was barking his head off right next to the blaze.
25 May 2001
Bertie has a sore foot. I've inspected it but can't see anything wrong, so it may be muscular, maybe a strain. It seems to get better after he's warmed up, it's worst when he's just woken. I'll just take him on short walks for a bit, maybe try icing it, and take him back to the vet next week if it doesn't improve over the weekend.
I'm tiiiiiired, haven't had enough sleep for a few days now.
Er ... that's it. Andrew mowed the lawns, bless him, they look great.
I'm tiiiiiired, haven't had enough sleep for a few days now.
Er ... that's it. Andrew mowed the lawns, bless him, they look great.
24 May 2001
Andrew arrived today weary and blistered after walking from South Gyle, where he'd been ferried by the friend he was staying with. The friend thought it was maybe three miles' walk .... so Andrew walked a few miles, then saw a sign that said "Forth Road Bridge 9 miles".
Andrew at Tarbert on Harris.
Luckily I'd already taken Bertie for his walk before Andrew arrived, so he was able to collapse. Later he treated me to lunch, at a Italian/Spanish place. It's great to see him again. Bertie thinks he's wonderful too, which is good because they're sharing the kennel tonight.
Andrew at Tarbert on Harris.
Luckily I'd already taken Bertie for his walk before Andrew arrived, so he was able to collapse. Later he treated me to lunch, at a Italian/Spanish place. It's great to see him again. Bertie thinks he's wonderful too, which is good because they're sharing the kennel tonight.
In case anyone was wondering, the tile guy still hasn't turned up. It's been over a month now since I chose the tiles. White, Spanish. I keep phoning and the other bloke, the one in the shop, says things like, "Oh, hasn't he been yet, dear? I thought he'd done that job. The tiles are here..."
I'll have to get someone else in. If I can be bothered.
I read something today about emigration, about the queues outside Australia House in London. One bloke was quoted as saying he wanted to leave Britain because he was sick of the negative, no-can-do attitude. And I thought, there goes another Whingeing Pom! He'll be in Sydney in a few months, sitting there grizzling away about how it's too hot and the beer's too cold and there are too many Koreans.
I picked a few branches of hawthorn blossom today, I love the acrid, almost-offensive smell and the white and green.
I'll have to get someone else in. If I can be bothered.
I read something today about emigration, about the queues outside Australia House in London. One bloke was quoted as saying he wanted to leave Britain because he was sick of the negative, no-can-do attitude. And I thought, there goes another Whingeing Pom! He'll be in Sydney in a few months, sitting there grizzling away about how it's too hot and the beer's too cold and there are too many Koreans.
I picked a few branches of hawthorn blossom today, I love the acrid, almost-offensive smell and the white and green.
23 May 2001
Today a friend said: "I've been keeping track of you on your website, reading all these things you haven't told me."
But I have told you! That's what this is for!
Tsk.
Anyhoo, the friend in question was Annmaree, over from Australia on a honeymoon-type visit. She and Andrew came for lunch and it was a gorgeous day, hot and sunny.
Tomorrow's shake-down sail in Eraser has been cancelled, which gives me a window of opportunity for some truly creative sloth. Oh, and a chance to mow the lawn, which is growing at an astonishing rate.
I'm beginning to regret, ever so slightly, having had the garden tap disconnected. At the time I thought it was useless because it was at the front; but I could have run a hose through the house to the back garden. Now I'm reduced to filling a watering can at the kitchen sink ... I don't think the tap takes a hose fitting ... and pondering the cost of having the tap reconnected. Mind you, it raises the spectre of another winter flood disaster, so maybe not.
But I have told you! That's what this is for!
Tsk.
Anyhoo, the friend in question was Annmaree, over from Australia on a honeymoon-type visit. She and Andrew came for lunch and it was a gorgeous day, hot and sunny.
Tomorrow's shake-down sail in Eraser has been cancelled, which gives me a window of opportunity for some truly creative sloth. Oh, and a chance to mow the lawn, which is growing at an astonishing rate.
I'm beginning to regret, ever so slightly, having had the garden tap disconnected. At the time I thought it was useless because it was at the front; but I could have run a hose through the house to the back garden. Now I'm reduced to filling a watering can at the kitchen sink ... I don't think the tap takes a hose fitting ... and pondering the cost of having the tap reconnected. Mind you, it raises the spectre of another winter flood disaster, so maybe not.
21 May 2001
Whew, what a weekend. Lots of activity, lots of rest.
The yacht launch was hilarious, great fun. Not for Colin though -- he described himself as "sick with fear". His brother and father were also there. In the end Colin came and collected me and took me across to the sailing club, because they needed extra hands to help raise the mast. Then the boat was backed into the water using the club's tractor. Slight panic when it appeared the outboard wouldn't be strong enough to reverse the boat away from the shore, and we drifted scarily close to beaching. Then more panic as Nichol grappled with attaching the rudder and I fended us off the raft.
We got clear though, and the rest of the trip was relatively drama-free -- apart from Colin & Nick arguing over every single thing.
Their dad met us at the other side, and so did Anthea. She and I headed back to my place for lunch, then off to Elie despite the rain. Bertie was thrilled to be at Elie again. More than thrilled, ecstatic. So ecstatic he jumped over a barbed wire fence into a field.
Anthea thought it was hilarious; I wasn't so amused. I couldn't see whether he'd cut his feet jumping the fence (he sprang on to the top wire, which was the barbed bit), and I didn't know whether there was a gate in the field open to the road beyond. I couldn't see a gate on our side, which presented another problem -- how to get him out. Meanwhile he was bounding around the paddock like a springbok, purely happy.
I climbed over the fence and once he'd run out of steam a bit managed to get him to come. Clipped on the lead and began the long walk to find a way out. Finally we found a bit where the ground dipped under the fence, leaving a gap -- but was it big enough for 32kg of unco-operative greyhound? I bent his front legs and pushed them through; Anthea grabbed them and pulled while I pushed his skinny bum. Bingo!
He was on the lead the rest of the walk, but he didn't care because he was bushed anyway. The rain held off but it was good we left when we did -- on the drive back the rain was torrential, it was nerve-wracking because even with the wipers at full speed I couldn't see very well. Most people drove as fast as they would have if it had been dry. Terrifying.
Friday I got my wetsuit, did my recycling and washed the car. Saturday I went for a sail -- serious wind, a wild and bouncy couple of hours. I didn't capsize until the very last minute, when I was "parking", very embarrassing. Happily I had one foot on the slipway, so I didn't end up in the mud, and the boat flipped right way up easily. The wetsuit was a great buy, it really made a difference.
I was meant to go out on Saturday night, but was so whacked out by all the activity I flagged that away. When I took Bertie for a walk in the field up the back at about 8pm all his best pals were up there with their people, and we all walked round together. These days that's my kind of social event!
Sunday I worked in the front garden, it was starting to get choked with weeds.
So, all in all a very pleasant few days off, restorative. This week is busy with visitors: Annmaree and her husband are coming for lunch tomorrow and Andrew is arriving on Thursday for an overnight stay, coming back on Sunday I think (he's going to a wedding down south). Wednesday a shake-down sail in Eraser is pencilled in (pencilled in, geddit? Ha!). Saturday is the grand opening of the Forth & Clyde Canal, a big flotilla of all kinds of boats is sailing from Grangemouth led by "a beautiful 35ft fish that will transform into a spectacular fountain" according to the publicity.
The yacht launch was hilarious, great fun. Not for Colin though -- he described himself as "sick with fear". His brother and father were also there. In the end Colin came and collected me and took me across to the sailing club, because they needed extra hands to help raise the mast. Then the boat was backed into the water using the club's tractor. Slight panic when it appeared the outboard wouldn't be strong enough to reverse the boat away from the shore, and we drifted scarily close to beaching. Then more panic as Nichol grappled with attaching the rudder and I fended us off the raft.
We got clear though, and the rest of the trip was relatively drama-free -- apart from Colin & Nick arguing over every single thing.
Their dad met us at the other side, and so did Anthea. She and I headed back to my place for lunch, then off to Elie despite the rain. Bertie was thrilled to be at Elie again. More than thrilled, ecstatic. So ecstatic he jumped over a barbed wire fence into a field.
Anthea thought it was hilarious; I wasn't so amused. I couldn't see whether he'd cut his feet jumping the fence (he sprang on to the top wire, which was the barbed bit), and I didn't know whether there was a gate in the field open to the road beyond. I couldn't see a gate on our side, which presented another problem -- how to get him out. Meanwhile he was bounding around the paddock like a springbok, purely happy.
I climbed over the fence and once he'd run out of steam a bit managed to get him to come. Clipped on the lead and began the long walk to find a way out. Finally we found a bit where the ground dipped under the fence, leaving a gap -- but was it big enough for 32kg of unco-operative greyhound? I bent his front legs and pushed them through; Anthea grabbed them and pulled while I pushed his skinny bum. Bingo!
He was on the lead the rest of the walk, but he didn't care because he was bushed anyway. The rain held off but it was good we left when we did -- on the drive back the rain was torrential, it was nerve-wracking because even with the wipers at full speed I couldn't see very well. Most people drove as fast as they would have if it had been dry. Terrifying.
Friday I got my wetsuit, did my recycling and washed the car. Saturday I went for a sail -- serious wind, a wild and bouncy couple of hours. I didn't capsize until the very last minute, when I was "parking", very embarrassing. Happily I had one foot on the slipway, so I didn't end up in the mud, and the boat flipped right way up easily. The wetsuit was a great buy, it really made a difference.
I was meant to go out on Saturday night, but was so whacked out by all the activity I flagged that away. When I took Bertie for a walk in the field up the back at about 8pm all his best pals were up there with their people, and we all walked round together. These days that's my kind of social event!
Sunday I worked in the front garden, it was starting to get choked with weeds.
So, all in all a very pleasant few days off, restorative. This week is busy with visitors: Annmaree and her husband are coming for lunch tomorrow and Andrew is arriving on Thursday for an overnight stay, coming back on Sunday I think (he's going to a wedding down south). Wednesday a shake-down sail in Eraser is pencilled in (pencilled in, geddit? Ha!). Saturday is the grand opening of the Forth & Clyde Canal, a big flotilla of all kinds of boats is sailing from Grangemouth led by "a beautiful 35ft fish that will transform into a spectacular fountain" according to the publicity.
16 May 2001
Colin's boat passed its insurance survey, so it may be back on the water tomorrow. He's planning to motor it across from the yacht club to the marina at high tide, which is about lunchtime. Anthea is coming out on the bus, we're planning to walk from Elie to St Monans and back. However, if it's raining again we may have to revise that.
Friday I'm going to get a wetsuit. For years I've been sailing in track pants and a fleece, with thermals underneath if it's cold. On my feet I had canvas plimsolls. A few years ago I got a pair of dinghy boots, tight-fitting neoprene boots with zips. Instant comfort! It was so much more pleasant sailing with warm feet. Then a couple of weeks ago I was on a weekend improvers course and for the first time sailed in a wetsuit. Bliss. Not only was I much more comfortable -- warmth without bulk! -- but I didn't come away covered in bruises.
It will also be good not to come home with a bag full of wet clothes. Just the wetsuit, cagoule, boots and gloves to hose down. I might go sailing on Saturday afternoon.
Colin asked if Bertie might like to go sailing in his yacht. I had to say no -- his centre of gravity is just too high. He can't sit, he either stands or lies down. There wouldn't be room for him to lie down on deck, and he'd just fall over standing up. Plus he'd be terrified. On the whole I think he'd rather be home with a good biscuit.
Friday I'm going to get a wetsuit. For years I've been sailing in track pants and a fleece, with thermals underneath if it's cold. On my feet I had canvas plimsolls. A few years ago I got a pair of dinghy boots, tight-fitting neoprene boots with zips. Instant comfort! It was so much more pleasant sailing with warm feet. Then a couple of weeks ago I was on a weekend improvers course and for the first time sailed in a wetsuit. Bliss. Not only was I much more comfortable -- warmth without bulk! -- but I didn't come away covered in bruises.
It will also be good not to come home with a bag full of wet clothes. Just the wetsuit, cagoule, boots and gloves to hose down. I might go sailing on Saturday afternoon.
Colin asked if Bertie might like to go sailing in his yacht. I had to say no -- his centre of gravity is just too high. He can't sit, he either stands or lies down. There wouldn't be room for him to lie down on deck, and he'd just fall over standing up. Plus he'd be terrified. On the whole I think he'd rather be home with a good biscuit.
A productive day -- cleaned the house, went to the doctor, walked the dog. Before all that, I printed off some information from the internet on the latest treatment for fibroids, to show the doctor. Bertie was making an odd noise, so I went to investigate. He was busy tearing chunks out of the sheepskin rug in the spare bedroom, where he sleeps. BAD dog! I remember reading somewhere that behaviour problems often don't emerge until the dog's been in your house for a month. It's been nearly two months -- I hope there are no more surprises...
He enjoyed his afternoon walk enormously. It's raining, which the rabbits seem to enjoy, and Bertie certainly prefers cool and wet weather to hot and dry. So anyway he was racing around in a hunting frenzy, finding lots of bunnies. He had a really good shot at one, and was just inches from its tail, running at full stretch, when he fell over. He was going so fast he rolled a few times. Rolled in something ghastly. I gave him a good rub-down when we got in, but I fear my newly cleaned house is right now getting grubby again. And possibly covered in bits of chewed-up sheepskin.
The visit to the doctor was good -- nice woman. She examined me, took notes from my printout and agreed to refer me to the gynaecologist once she's got the notes from my last doctor.
He enjoyed his afternoon walk enormously. It's raining, which the rabbits seem to enjoy, and Bertie certainly prefers cool and wet weather to hot and dry. So anyway he was racing around in a hunting frenzy, finding lots of bunnies. He had a really good shot at one, and was just inches from its tail, running at full stretch, when he fell over. He was going so fast he rolled a few times. Rolled in something ghastly. I gave him a good rub-down when we got in, but I fear my newly cleaned house is right now getting grubby again. And possibly covered in bits of chewed-up sheepskin.
The visit to the doctor was good -- nice woman. She examined me, took notes from my printout and agreed to refer me to the gynaecologist once she's got the notes from my last doctor.
15 May 2001
How annoying is this? I made an appointment with the doctor last week (women's problems, nothing serious) for this morning and was asked to take along a urine sample as I'm a new patient. So I was there for ages with a nurse, being weighed (84kg) and measured (1.something metres), having my blood pressure taken etc, and also quizzed on my medical history. (I was also interrogated about my neighbours and what happened to the lady I bought the house off -- I really am in a small town!) Finally the nurse said, "Right! So now you can go ahead and make an appointment with the doctor if you need to."
I thought I had made an appointment with the doctor.
Noooo .... I'd made an appointment to be weighed, measured, tested and interrogated.
So now I'm going to a "Well Woman Clinic" tomorrow. The thing is I don't even want to see a doctor, I just have to to get a referral to a gynaecologist at the Royal Infirmary, to ask about a new treatment I heard about on the radio. I tried to make an appointment direct, but I have to go via the GP, even though I've been before. It seems like a waste of resources to me -- certainly a waste of the doctor's time.
I thought I had made an appointment with the doctor.
Noooo .... I'd made an appointment to be weighed, measured, tested and interrogated.
So now I'm going to a "Well Woman Clinic" tomorrow. The thing is I don't even want to see a doctor, I just have to to get a referral to a gynaecologist at the Royal Infirmary, to ask about a new treatment I heard about on the radio. I tried to make an appointment direct, but I have to go via the GP, even though I've been before. It seems like a waste of resources to me -- certainly a waste of the doctor's time.
14 May 2001
After a very very early start -- Bertie barked in my ear at 7am -- I passed an entertaining couple of hours this morning helping Colin scrub out the cockpit of his boat Eraser.
Colin and Eraser in happier times
Eraser's been off the water quite a while now, after a series of mishaps, so it was pretty grimy. But with elbow grease and some special hull-cleaning gunk we got it looking reasonable. It's having an insurance survey on Wednesday I think, and Colin's shifting it from the yacht club to the marina down the road from me on Thursday morning. He's talking about a "shake-down" sail next week -- that's where you gingerly take the boat out and see if anything falls off.
Bertie came along for the ride and was very well behaved. He amused himself for a while but quickly got bored -- he wouldn't go off on his own, which was good, but he couldn't climb up into the boat so once he'd had a look round the area he just hung around whining. I put him in the car with a biscuit and he was happy.
After that I went home to meet the man from the double-glazing firm who came to fix the seal on the door that keeps falling out. He just poked it back in -- which I've already done twice. Hmm.
I did some gardening as well, and took Bertie for another walk. He nearly caught a rabbit again. Poor thing. And nearly ran under a car on the way home, fighting to get into the road to grab what he thought was a hedgehog but was actually an old sponge.
Colin and Eraser in happier times
Eraser's been off the water quite a while now, after a series of mishaps, so it was pretty grimy. But with elbow grease and some special hull-cleaning gunk we got it looking reasonable. It's having an insurance survey on Wednesday I think, and Colin's shifting it from the yacht club to the marina down the road from me on Thursday morning. He's talking about a "shake-down" sail next week -- that's where you gingerly take the boat out and see if anything falls off.
Bertie came along for the ride and was very well behaved. He amused himself for a while but quickly got bored -- he wouldn't go off on his own, which was good, but he couldn't climb up into the boat so once he'd had a look round the area he just hung around whining. I put him in the car with a biscuit and he was happy.
After that I went home to meet the man from the double-glazing firm who came to fix the seal on the door that keeps falling out. He just poked it back in -- which I've already done twice. Hmm.
I did some gardening as well, and took Bertie for another walk. He nearly caught a rabbit again. Poor thing. And nearly ran under a car on the way home, fighting to get into the road to grab what he thought was a hedgehog but was actually an old sponge.
13 May 2001
Gullane Bents
Yesterday was sunny and windless, so Bertie and I headed for the beach. I had to go via the city anyway so kept on going and went to the Gullane Bents, which had been recommended as good for dogs. And so it was. Bertie doesn't like beaches that much -- it's too exposed, there are no rabbits, and he makes himself sick drinking seawater.
So after playing chase with some other dogs, barking at a few children and getting extremely hot, he was thrilled to get away into the dunes beyond the strand. It was wonderful, a brilliant place to walk. I take a dish and a litre of water with me on these expeditions, and he drank the lot.
We got home in the evening and I went out to get videos -- he wanted to come too. So we went for the third walk of the day, making a total of nearly four hours, including the late-night walk.
Today I'm working, bah -- it's perfect weather for sailing, too: nice breeze, hot sunshine. Heigh ho.
Tomorrow I'm helping Colin with his yacht for a couple of hours, then the double-glazing fellows are coming to fix the seal on the french doors, then I'm off to work.
11 May 2001
Um, ok ... it seems to be working now. The other post seems to have reappeared as well.
More moaning -- yesterday, my day off, was cloudy, windy and cold. I'd booked a dinghy hire but cancelled it -- too cold, too windy. Today dawned nice and hot and sunny again, though even windier. But this afternoon a haar descended. A haar is a thick sea mist, a pale, moist blanket that envelops Edinburgh after a few days of sun. It can last several days -- a taxi driver told me he remembered one in the Sixties that stayed for six weeks. But usually it's just a day or so.
Perversely, I quite like the haar. I like the way it renders everything mysterious. It's especially effective in the Old Town, it puts a gleam on the cobbles and makes the dank closes look romantic.
I mowed the lawns today, front and back. The front can hardly be called a lawn -- it's more dandelion and daisy than grass.
I picked up my reading glasses today. I should have gone with the bifocals. The reading glasses are (surprise) brilliant for reading, but to cross the room I really have to put my distance glasses back on. I'll need a bigger handbag now.
Bertie's nature notes: Rabbits can climb trees!!! No, really, they do, Bertie's seen it with his own eyes. Also: Cats are scary. There were several in the vet's waiting room and they spat and swore when Bertie had a sniff. He retreated to the far corner on his belly.
More moaning -- yesterday, my day off, was cloudy, windy and cold. I'd booked a dinghy hire but cancelled it -- too cold, too windy. Today dawned nice and hot and sunny again, though even windier. But this afternoon a haar descended. A haar is a thick sea mist, a pale, moist blanket that envelops Edinburgh after a few days of sun. It can last several days -- a taxi driver told me he remembered one in the Sixties that stayed for six weeks. But usually it's just a day or so.
Perversely, I quite like the haar. I like the way it renders everything mysterious. It's especially effective in the Old Town, it puts a gleam on the cobbles and makes the dank closes look romantic.
I mowed the lawns today, front and back. The front can hardly be called a lawn -- it's more dandelion and daisy than grass.
I picked up my reading glasses today. I should have gone with the bifocals. The reading glasses are (surprise) brilliant for reading, but to cross the room I really have to put my distance glasses back on. I'll need a bigger handbag now.
Bertie's nature notes: Rabbits can climb trees!!! No, really, they do, Bertie's seen it with his own eyes. Also: Cats are scary. There were several in the vet's waiting room and they spat and swore when Bertie had a sniff. He retreated to the far corner on his belly.
10 May 2001
8 May 2001
With the weather being so nice and it being a bank holiday weekend and cross-country footpaths being out of bounds, there are cyclists all over the roads. Great mobs of them, all garish lycra and pointy helmets, pedalling grimly along.
Driving to work today I came across one sprawled on the road next to his bike. I stopped.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
He moaned and rolled up on to his feet.
"Yeah, I'm just tired."
Yes, that really does look like fun.
Driving to work today I came across one sprawled on the road next to his bike. I stopped.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
He moaned and rolled up on to his feet.
"Yeah, I'm just tired."
Yes, that really does look like fun.
7 May 2001
I'm wearing sandals! It's been hot three days in a row!!
Bertie isn't enjoying it much -- everywhere we go is infested with children. As for home ... it's dreadful. From what I deduce, it seems that from his point of view I've gone completely mad. I sit out in the boiling sun with the french doors wide open, completely ignoring the fact that the neighbours are making threatening noises from all sides. When he tries to deal with the situation by barking, I tell him off. Is that fair? NO. Much huffing, whining and pacing goes on while I'm reading the paper.
So we are getting into a slightly different routine. In the morning the field up the back is OK -- usually his pals Amber and Cassie are there, or sometimes Chloe. He has a great belt round after the rabbits and generally enjoys himself. In the afternoon, there are usually kids up there. Today by the time I caught up with Bertie he was barking his head off and the kids were sitting in a tree screeching.
"Is he a good dog?" one of them quavered. Oh yes, I told them, restraining a slavering Bertie. He's a very good dog.
While this was going on some more kids arrived, plus a very friendly woman who unfortunately had a large and terrifying plastic carrier bag in her hand. So we went down to the marina instead and looked at boats.
I have to do some work now.
Bertie isn't enjoying it much -- everywhere we go is infested with children. As for home ... it's dreadful. From what I deduce, it seems that from his point of view I've gone completely mad. I sit out in the boiling sun with the french doors wide open, completely ignoring the fact that the neighbours are making threatening noises from all sides. When he tries to deal with the situation by barking, I tell him off. Is that fair? NO. Much huffing, whining and pacing goes on while I'm reading the paper.
So we are getting into a slightly different routine. In the morning the field up the back is OK -- usually his pals Amber and Cassie are there, or sometimes Chloe. He has a great belt round after the rabbits and generally enjoys himself. In the afternoon, there are usually kids up there. Today by the time I caught up with Bertie he was barking his head off and the kids were sitting in a tree screeching.
"Is he a good dog?" one of them quavered. Oh yes, I told them, restraining a slavering Bertie. He's a very good dog.
While this was going on some more kids arrived, plus a very friendly woman who unfortunately had a large and terrifying plastic carrier bag in her hand. So we went down to the marina instead and looked at boats.
I have to do some work now.
4 May 2001
Today's Cute Dog Story isn't all that cute, it was nearly a tragedy.
In all the greyhound literature one thing is stressed: Never, ever, ever, let your dog off its leash on the road. Never.
So what did I do? Hmmm.
My excuse is that it was 2am, it was a dead end (down by the gate to the marina, which is locked at night), there was no traffic. So I let Bertie off for a little ramble. Just for a couple of minutes. Then I called him back. He looked at me, then started running down the road. Along which came a van.
I ran after him (stop laughing at the back), yelling "STOP!" Luckily he remembered what that means, and stopped dead in his tracks, in the middle of the road. The van driver stopped too, and turned off his headlights, bless him, while I grabbed Bertie, who thought this was a GREAT game. The driver and I had a great chat -- he was checking the bridge.
The reallly stupid part of this story (ok the stupid part was letting him off the lead, this is the other stupid part) is that at the beginning of the walk, Bertie had added yet another item to the growing list of Terrifying Things -- "unexpected furniture". There were three armchairs discarded outside the sheltered housing flats, and he was beside himself with fear when he saw them. Aieee! Look out! They might bite!
If only "oncoming traffic" was on the list.
This morning there was more excitement -- he expected the furniture this time, so it wasn't terrifying. What freaked him out was that when we came back from our walk, there were people sitting on the chairs!! Two special needs teenagers and their carer. Oh, and the carer was wearing sunglasses, also on the terror list. Matters were even more complicated because one of the boys got a bigger fright than Bertie and started to his feet with a yell. Terror all round, lots of soothing words.
I wonder if Bertie has high blood pressure?
In all the greyhound literature one thing is stressed: Never, ever, ever, let your dog off its leash on the road. Never.
So what did I do? Hmmm.
My excuse is that it was 2am, it was a dead end (down by the gate to the marina, which is locked at night), there was no traffic. So I let Bertie off for a little ramble. Just for a couple of minutes. Then I called him back. He looked at me, then started running down the road. Along which came a van.
I ran after him (stop laughing at the back), yelling "STOP!" Luckily he remembered what that means, and stopped dead in his tracks, in the middle of the road. The van driver stopped too, and turned off his headlights, bless him, while I grabbed Bertie, who thought this was a GREAT game. The driver and I had a great chat -- he was checking the bridge.
The reallly stupid part of this story (ok the stupid part was letting him off the lead, this is the other stupid part) is that at the beginning of the walk, Bertie had added yet another item to the growing list of Terrifying Things -- "unexpected furniture". There were three armchairs discarded outside the sheltered housing flats, and he was beside himself with fear when he saw them. Aieee! Look out! They might bite!
If only "oncoming traffic" was on the list.
This morning there was more excitement -- he expected the furniture this time, so it wasn't terrifying. What freaked him out was that when we came back from our walk, there were people sitting on the chairs!! Two special needs teenagers and their carer. Oh, and the carer was wearing sunglasses, also on the terror list. Matters were even more complicated because one of the boys got a bigger fright than Bertie and started to his feet with a yell. Terror all round, lots of soothing words.
I wonder if Bertie has high blood pressure?
PS: The weather was pretty good again today. In fact the weather's been so good the trains can't cope. An informant sent me this:
"Thousands of Scots had journeys delayed or cancelled on Wednesday after Railtrack imposed emergency speed restrictions on rail routes between South Gyle and Dalmeny, near Edinburgh.
Railtrack claimed the speed limits were vital because the early summer sunshine had caused the steel rails to warp – making it dangerous for trains to run at normal speed.
The average temperature in the area at the time when Railtrack imposed speed restrictions was just 12C with a high of 17C, and last night experts said they were amazed that such mild weather could have such devastating effects.
The restrictions led to delays on 72 train services operated by Scotrail as they were forced to trundle along the ‘overheated’ tracks at speeds of just 20mph.
Some trains took as long as 50 minutes for a journey along just three miles of track that normally takes only a few minutes.
Railtrack however refused to apologise for the delays and insisted the unseasonal sunshine was to blame.
Spokesman Simon McMillan said: ‘It is a common problem that arrives with the spring sunshine as the metal can warp when the weather heats up then cools down.
‘The speed restrictions were imposed as a precautionary measure for safety reasons and we then took action to alter the rails to stop any more problems.
‘Track metal expands in the heat, especially when sunlight falls directly on the track. The lack of wind was a problem on Wednesday, which means the track didn’t get cooled down.
He explained that rails are normally adjusted with the changing seasons to ensure that the track stays true whatever the weather, but that the unseasonal sunshine had caught them unawares."
Makes you wonder how they get on in India.
"Thousands of Scots had journeys delayed or cancelled on Wednesday after Railtrack imposed emergency speed restrictions on rail routes between South Gyle and Dalmeny, near Edinburgh.
Railtrack claimed the speed limits were vital because the early summer sunshine had caused the steel rails to warp – making it dangerous for trains to run at normal speed.
The average temperature in the area at the time when Railtrack imposed speed restrictions was just 12C with a high of 17C, and last night experts said they were amazed that such mild weather could have such devastating effects.
The restrictions led to delays on 72 train services operated by Scotrail as they were forced to trundle along the ‘overheated’ tracks at speeds of just 20mph.
Some trains took as long as 50 minutes for a journey along just three miles of track that normally takes only a few minutes.
Railtrack however refused to apologise for the delays and insisted the unseasonal sunshine was to blame.
Spokesman Simon McMillan said: ‘It is a common problem that arrives with the spring sunshine as the metal can warp when the weather heats up then cools down.
‘The speed restrictions were imposed as a precautionary measure for safety reasons and we then took action to alter the rails to stop any more problems.
‘Track metal expands in the heat, especially when sunlight falls directly on the track. The lack of wind was a problem on Wednesday, which means the track didn’t get cooled down.
He explained that rails are normally adjusted with the changing seasons to ensure that the track stays true whatever the weather, but that the unseasonal sunshine had caught them unawares."
Makes you wonder how they get on in India.
I got a tripod today for my camera, because I want to try taking some night-time shots of the bridges and the river. I love these late-night walks, it's so quiet and the river has all manner of moods.
The other night I walked under the road bridge and really wanted to take a picture from the other side. It was still and clear, but the bridge is always humming with traffic. At night the pylons fade away and it's just a beautiful curve of lights, with a delicate under-hatching of ironwork. It leaps across the river and away, a space-age promise, as if it's not just taking you to Fife but to the rocket base where you'll board a shuttle flight to Mars. Yes, I read science fiction at an impressionable age.
Further along there's the rail bridge, which has recently been floodlit. I don't like the effect much -- it's harsh, accenting the bridge's angularity rather than its sort of sinuous look. Oddly enough they floodlit it once before, for its centenary, but took down the lights after a year, and that was more successful. However, the new lighting still makes pretty patterns on the water and I'd like to try and photograph it.
The other night I walked under the road bridge and really wanted to take a picture from the other side. It was still and clear, but the bridge is always humming with traffic. At night the pylons fade away and it's just a beautiful curve of lights, with a delicate under-hatching of ironwork. It leaps across the river and away, a space-age promise, as if it's not just taking you to Fife but to the rocket base where you'll board a shuttle flight to Mars. Yes, I read science fiction at an impressionable age.
Further along there's the rail bridge, which has recently been floodlit. I don't like the effect much -- it's harsh, accenting the bridge's angularity rather than its sort of sinuous look. Oddly enough they floodlit it once before, for its centenary, but took down the lights after a year, and that was more successful. However, the new lighting still makes pretty patterns on the water and I'd like to try and photograph it.
3 May 2001
Coming soon: the whole roll of pictures I took of guess who. He looks gorgeous, of course.
Getting the photos developed was something of an ordeal. Over a week ago I took the film to the place I normally go to. But there was a queue and I was illegally parked, so I thought well I get it done later. Hah, yeah right.
Finally on Monday, I zipped in to a Boots for the overnight service. But that wasn't going to be ready until Wednesday, so I said well ok I'll have the three-day service (there's no two-day). So this morning I went in on the way to get my hair done (my hairdresser's a dog man) and oh dear, they couldn't find the photos. According to the electronic system they had been developed, but they weren't anywhere to be found. They took a note of my name and number and said they'd ring.
After the hair appointment I went back to Boots. Still no sign of the pictures, and also no sign of the man who'd taken my details OR of my details. As I stood watching the assistant search the bin of packets of photos, a woman standing patiently waiting to be served said to me: "Don't you just wish you could have a look yourself?" And it's true, I had been thinking that very thing. You know how sometimes you can just tell someone's not being thorough? Frustrating. So I left my details again and went home.
Took Bertie for a burn up on the hill, where we met Chloe and her owner. Bertie and Chloe get on famously, though Bertie's inclined to sniff her bum just that little bit too long. Once she'd sorted him out on that score they settled down and played nicely, while the owner and I chatted. I'd taken my mobile up there, and sure enough Boots phoned to say they'd found the photos. Apparently the packet had slipped to the bottom of the bin, it was there all the time. Grrrr.
When I arrived half an hour later they were full of apologies and gave me a 50% discount, so I consented to be gracious. But it did make me wish I'd given in to my gut feeling and just barged in to look for myself.
Amusing Bertie story: At 2am this morning we were walking along the High St when something caught his attention in a big way. When I looked at what he was staring at, all I could see was a big splash of something darkish, like spilled soft drink. Bertie was acting spooked/interested/puzzled, sniffing and staring though, so I had a closer look. What was it? Dried blood? Fox pee? Alien pee?
I noticed there was a kind of texture to it and peered closer.
Ants. Dozens of tiny, tiny ants, barely visible.
It must have looked so weird, a woman and a dog at 2am, staring intently at an empty footpath, then the woman laughing out loud.
Getting the photos developed was something of an ordeal. Over a week ago I took the film to the place I normally go to. But there was a queue and I was illegally parked, so I thought well I get it done later. Hah, yeah right.
Finally on Monday, I zipped in to a Boots for the overnight service. But that wasn't going to be ready until Wednesday, so I said well ok I'll have the three-day service (there's no two-day). So this morning I went in on the way to get my hair done (my hairdresser's a dog man) and oh dear, they couldn't find the photos. According to the electronic system they had been developed, but they weren't anywhere to be found. They took a note of my name and number and said they'd ring.
After the hair appointment I went back to Boots. Still no sign of the pictures, and also no sign of the man who'd taken my details OR of my details. As I stood watching the assistant search the bin of packets of photos, a woman standing patiently waiting to be served said to me: "Don't you just wish you could have a look yourself?" And it's true, I had been thinking that very thing. You know how sometimes you can just tell someone's not being thorough? Frustrating. So I left my details again and went home.
Took Bertie for a burn up on the hill, where we met Chloe and her owner. Bertie and Chloe get on famously, though Bertie's inclined to sniff her bum just that little bit too long. Once she'd sorted him out on that score they settled down and played nicely, while the owner and I chatted. I'd taken my mobile up there, and sure enough Boots phoned to say they'd found the photos. Apparently the packet had slipped to the bottom of the bin, it was there all the time. Grrrr.
When I arrived half an hour later they were full of apologies and gave me a 50% discount, so I consented to be gracious. But it did make me wish I'd given in to my gut feeling and just barged in to look for myself.
Amusing Bertie story: At 2am this morning we were walking along the High St when something caught his attention in a big way. When I looked at what he was staring at, all I could see was a big splash of something darkish, like spilled soft drink. Bertie was acting spooked/interested/puzzled, sniffing and staring though, so I had a closer look. What was it? Dried blood? Fox pee? Alien pee?
I noticed there was a kind of texture to it and peered closer.
Ants. Dozens of tiny, tiny ants, barely visible.
It must have looked so weird, a woman and a dog at 2am, staring intently at an empty footpath, then the woman laughing out loud.
2 May 2001
Happy May, everyone! It being May, we are now having our summer, which lasts between two days and two weeks and is referred to constantly until September in remarks like "But it was nice for a while in May, remember that?" So far we've had two days, yesterday and today. It's hot, sunny and gorgeous. Flowers are bursting out everywhere -- the narcissi in my front garden are finally out.
It wasn't hot and sunny at the weekend, however, because that was still April. I did a sailing course at the marina, dinghy improvers, and it was superb. There was just enough wind and the weather, while cold, wasn't foul. It didn't rain, and on Sunday afternoon the sky was a perfect blue, dotted with big white puffy clouds, like cartoon clouds.
Wayfarer
There were six of us on the course, plus two instructors. Saturday morning we took out three dinghies, Wayfarers (see pic above), sailed around and around a triangle of buoys and discovered we were all about the same level of crapness. In the afternoon we had a bit of theory and a go in a "static" boat set up on tyres in the boatshed. Then we went back out on the water and found we had all improved remarkably. We did coming alongside (speeding up and slowing down, basically), which I managed really well.
Sunday morning we were out in the Wayfarers again, this time with spinnakers, a tricky business. Then in the afternoon we changed into wetsuits and took out two single-handers, both Topazes (see below) and two bigger dinghies, Laser Stratos this time, and swapped over. I was mainly in a Topaz, enjoying it too -- it's what I'll mainly be sailing in this year. But then Anna collected me in the inflatable & took me for a joyride before depositing me in a Stratos with Marilyn. What a fantastic boat that is! It's brand new, which added to the thrill, but it's also light and responsive, really good to sail.
Topaz
Laser Stratos
I'm also quite sold on the idea of sailing in a wetsuit. Marilyn was the only other woman on the course (apart from the instructors) and we got quite hysterical hopping around getting ourselves squeezed into the suits. But once I managed to get the zip up, I found it really comfy, and warm too. I may lash out and get one. It's rarely ever too hot on the Forth for a wetsuit!
Monday I went and did some more gardening with Chad, the colleague who's been ill. He's feeling a lot better so he did some light hoeing while I did the heavier spadework. It rained a bit, but nothing serious. I came away with a great haul of produce: parsnips, leeks, rhubarb and some more currant plants. Tuesday Philippa (cousin Brian's daughter) came to lunch and to say goodbye. She's off on a tour of Scotland for a week, then away back to NZ via several months in Africa. After she left I got stuck in to my own garden, weeding and planting. I began digging up the deceased fuschia, but discovered signs of life -- tiny green shoots emerging from the root. So I quickly replanted it, hope it survives.
Today I took Bertie on a visit to the cat and dog home. He found it deeply alarming, he wouldn't go in at first. He was recognised and much fussed over -- he's put on a little weight and his coat is much softer and shinier, he's looking really good. I was there to collect another 15kg bag of dog food, he's nearly finished the first one.
On then to the optician, where I picked up my new glasses and dropped off my old ones to be turned into -- reading glasses. I'm old, it's official.
Bertie attracts lots of attention in town -- people literally stop and stare, or rush up and ask questions. "Magic dog!" one fellow shouted. He is, he's magic. Poor dog, he hated it though -- too hot, too many people, too much traffic. He couldn't wait to get back to the car.
Uh oh ... I see big black clouds looming. A two-day summer then. Ah well.
It wasn't hot and sunny at the weekend, however, because that was still April. I did a sailing course at the marina, dinghy improvers, and it was superb. There was just enough wind and the weather, while cold, wasn't foul. It didn't rain, and on Sunday afternoon the sky was a perfect blue, dotted with big white puffy clouds, like cartoon clouds.
Wayfarer
There were six of us on the course, plus two instructors. Saturday morning we took out three dinghies, Wayfarers (see pic above), sailed around and around a triangle of buoys and discovered we were all about the same level of crapness. In the afternoon we had a bit of theory and a go in a "static" boat set up on tyres in the boatshed. Then we went back out on the water and found we had all improved remarkably. We did coming alongside (speeding up and slowing down, basically), which I managed really well.
Sunday morning we were out in the Wayfarers again, this time with spinnakers, a tricky business. Then in the afternoon we changed into wetsuits and took out two single-handers, both Topazes (see below) and two bigger dinghies, Laser Stratos this time, and swapped over. I was mainly in a Topaz, enjoying it too -- it's what I'll mainly be sailing in this year. But then Anna collected me in the inflatable & took me for a joyride before depositing me in a Stratos with Marilyn. What a fantastic boat that is! It's brand new, which added to the thrill, but it's also light and responsive, really good to sail.
Topaz
Laser Stratos
I'm also quite sold on the idea of sailing in a wetsuit. Marilyn was the only other woman on the course (apart from the instructors) and we got quite hysterical hopping around getting ourselves squeezed into the suits. But once I managed to get the zip up, I found it really comfy, and warm too. I may lash out and get one. It's rarely ever too hot on the Forth for a wetsuit!
Monday I went and did some more gardening with Chad, the colleague who's been ill. He's feeling a lot better so he did some light hoeing while I did the heavier spadework. It rained a bit, but nothing serious. I came away with a great haul of produce: parsnips, leeks, rhubarb and some more currant plants. Tuesday Philippa (cousin Brian's daughter) came to lunch and to say goodbye. She's off on a tour of Scotland for a week, then away back to NZ via several months in Africa. After she left I got stuck in to my own garden, weeding and planting. I began digging up the deceased fuschia, but discovered signs of life -- tiny green shoots emerging from the root. So I quickly replanted it, hope it survives.
Today I took Bertie on a visit to the cat and dog home. He found it deeply alarming, he wouldn't go in at first. He was recognised and much fussed over -- he's put on a little weight and his coat is much softer and shinier, he's looking really good. I was there to collect another 15kg bag of dog food, he's nearly finished the first one.
On then to the optician, where I picked up my new glasses and dropped off my old ones to be turned into -- reading glasses. I'm old, it's official.
Bertie attracts lots of attention in town -- people literally stop and stare, or rush up and ask questions. "Magic dog!" one fellow shouted. He is, he's magic. Poor dog, he hated it though -- too hot, too many people, too much traffic. He couldn't wait to get back to the car.
Uh oh ... I see big black clouds looming. A two-day summer then. Ah well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)