:: picture show

A great year for raspberries; the garlic and gooseberries weren't bad either.


Not raspberry jam (though I did make two batches from my own fruit), it's blackcurrant, using fruit from Chad's allotment. Yum.


Pic from the day Faye and I walked along the canal path from Ratho.





These are from the day Bertie got thirsty down at the marina and thought "Well there's all that water down there..." It's a steep seawall, slippery with seaweed, and I was terrified he was going to break a leg. Or drown. He thought the floating seaweed was solid ground and kept trying to climb on to it. Oh, and the water tasted funny, apparently.


Also a bumper year for wasps. This hole is on a path at Blackness.



The grand parade on Ferry Fair Saturday. Bertie stuck it out for the pipe band and one brass band, which is not bad going for him.


The weather has been ridiculously bad -- this was also during Ferry Fair week. That's a fun fair down there, next to the historic Forth Bridge! Tourists still flocked to stare at the visible bits of bridge and listen to the trains rumble over. Poor devils.


Great year for mushrooms. I picked some little puffballs recently and had them for lunch. Not bad, though not very mushroomy.


Furniture turns up in the oddest places.

:: rain rain

It's been raining and miserable for what seems like weeks -- culminating in a mudslide that blocked the main road north for more than a day -- but finally there are signs of a change. This afternoon the sun came out, hurrah! The garden's a jungle, so that's a priority for tomorrow (ie later today; it's just gone midnight), but it's also Ferry Fair day, with a parade, the crowning of the queen and a re-enactment of Queen Margaret's trip across the firth, so I'll have to make an effort and get up early.

Work is going to be all-consuming for a while: I should be off on Sunday and Monday as well, but I'll be working. I'm taking Wednesday off, I think. However, the good news is that I'm getting a promotion, and hopefully a decent pay rise to go with it.

I need a slight cash boost at the moment too: the car broke down on Sunday and it cost £230 for a new ignition and starter motor. On my way to work I noticed the electrics weren't working, and once I got there it wouldn't start again. The breakdown service towed me back home at the end of my shift, and I was a few very rainy days without wheels, including my day off. It would be nice to replace it with a newer car, but with all my extravagant travel plans that's not really on the cards.

I'd better get back to my work. I'll post a few pics tomorrow. Honest!

:: no lights

My car has thrown a wobbly, and I suspect it may be down to the haar. Driving in to work this afternoon I quickly noticed that the electrics weren't working. No indicators, no radio. Alarmingly, when I put my foot on the brakes, the battery warming lamp comes on and the petrol guage suddenly drops to zero! I stopped at the nearest petrol station and checked the water and oil, topped them both up, and drove on. I was running late and I'd left my phone at home - stoopid or what.

I managed to get to work in one piece - though there was a heart-pounding moment at some traffic lights when I realised that the terrible racket I could hear was coming from my car. I thought I'd better pull over and investigate, but I barely touched the key in the ignition and the noise stopped. On reflection it was the same kind of racket you get if you accidentally turn the key when the engine's running, which leads me to suspect some kind of electrical shorting-out. Hence my suspicion of the fog, which has been particularly thick over the past couple of days. This afternoon it was also windy.

If there are still no electrics when it's time to leave for home at 1am I'll call the Green Flag man and get him to sort it. Can't drive home without the radio!!

The fog is amazing. Yesterday and today both the bridges were completely invisible. The poor tourists still flocked to look at them -- they ended up listening to trains rumbling overhead. All you could see was the bit of pier behind the Hawes Inn.

:: now what'll I watch?

Big Brother is over, wah! Nadia the Portuguese transsexual won, Oh my GAAAHD! as she said several million times. I've been very brave and come out as a BB fan at work. Everyone here is extremely sniffy about it -- but then they don't watch it, so what would they know?

I love The Onion so much: it never fails to make me laugh.

Back in real life, the weather's been rubbish, muggy and misty. The fog does offer spectacular visual effects on the river: one night all you could see of the Forth Bridge were the floodlit piers; the whole upper structure was just airbrushed out.
There has also been a lot of very heavy rain, so the lawn is growing rank and lanky again, and the weeds are prospering. Almost all the fruit is finished. There are still blackcurrants ripening, but I'm leaving those for the birds. There aren't enough for jam -- I went to a friend's allotment last week and picked enough for ten jars, yum. I wish I'd made more raspberry jam, it really is delicious, and very easy to make.

Planning for Pinky's trip is advancing: it's very exciting when it gets down to choosing what kind of car to hire and looking at hotel websites. I want to leave as much flexibility as possible so we can respond to local conditions etc, but you can get good bargains on the internet. I've got some guidebooks too.

Time I did some work.

:: bertie goes awol

On today's walk I was distracted by Taffy's long-winded dissertation on how he could manage to insulate his static caravan, and Bertie took the opportunity to have another go at finding the black and white cat that lives up The Forbidden Path. There's a gate at the top of the path, but there's also a gap at the side of the gate just wide enough for a skinny greyhound to slither through.

Once I'd whistled and yelled long enough I stumped off up the path myself in pursuit. Through the gate is a little private lane for a row of railway cottages. At the gate of one of the cottages was a woman I'd met before. "Are you looking for Bertie?" she asked. "He's out the back. Just come on through my house."

So, carrying my bulging black binbag and litter-picker (it was a working walk), I walked through the back door, down the passage, through the livingroom, greeting the grandchildren as I went, out the front door, across the garden (large rabbit looking nervously out from hutch) and out the front gate. No sign of Bertie.

I called and whistled and yelled and he hove into view. But then he caught more cat-scent and was off down someone else's garden path. More yelling later and I finally had him collared. So that's another section of the walk where he has to be leashed now.

I've been very busy lately, doing all kinds of dull and domestic things, and a few more interesting things. Which I may write about later on. Right now I'm off home.