Work work work work work.

Work work work.

I had yesterday off, but it was blighted by the weather and by earache.My ear had kind of cleared up after the last bout, but the infection flared up again on about Wednesday and by Friday, which was when I went to the doctor, it felt like someone was driving a knitting needle into my brain. A hot knitting needle.

I got stronger ear drops and some antibiotics as well. Today is the first day it's felt like it was starting to get better. On Friday night I was nearly weeping with pain, despite taking as many painkillers as I safely could. Today I feel much, much better, plus I can hear better.

I had planned to take Bertie for a make-up fun walk on Arthur's Seat yesterday but the rain put paid to that. In fact when we went out for our regular morning walk, it was raining so hard that Bertie turned round and tried to shove his way back into the house. Later I pulled a mean trick -- I took him with me in the car, and he had to stay in it while I collected Anthea and we had lunch at Plaisir de Chocolat. It was packed out, so we ate sitting on the terrace. It wasn't too cold, despite the rain.

After that I stopped at Pets At Home to stock up on dog food. Bertie finds it exciting but a bit overwhelming. So many interesting smells! So much food! I pissed him off by making him try on coats (all far too small) but everyone he met made a huge fuss of him and he scored lots of treats.

Generally though, the expedition wasn't up to snuff and he refused to get out of the car when we got home. Poor thing.

This is the last of this stint of nearly 12-hour days spelling for my boss, thank goodness. It hasn't been too stressful though (apart from the earache). I'm doing it again on Thursday and Friday.

My days off (two, after working only one night after my holiday!) passed in a flash. Spent Monday talking on the phone and Tuesday shopping for new clothes. I bought a few things, ranging in size from Small (12-14) right through to 18. And one of the 18s (a plain black v-neck jumper) is the tightest garment I purchased. The best buy was a wonderful shiny chestnut brown puffer jacket. Mutton dressed as lamb, but what the heck. Old lady clothes make me feel ... old.

I've been at work since just after 11am and it's now 9.15pm, my poor dog!! He'll be hysterical when I get home. I'm on this shift right through to Sunday. Saturday off, whew.

Polbain -- The Travelogue

Sunday: Left everything to the last minute so we (Andrew and I) set off about an hour later than planned. We stopped in Aviemore on the way up for a late lunch and to walk Bertie. We met a Great Dane, who made Bertie look terribly dainty for a change. The Dane was too Great to deign to make friends. Also accosted by a woman whose aged greyhound died a few months ago. She had a bit of grief therapy fussing over Bertie, who was deeply sympathetic.

Arrived at the cottage just before dark to be greeted by the owners: "We were worried about you!" They gave us a loaf of bread and showed us round -- what a wonderful find this cottage is. A nice size, extremely comfortable, gorgeous views, all the amenities and right across the road from a very well-stocked shop. Perfect. We took Bertie on a wander then settled down with beer and sandwiches for a good old chinwag.

Monday: Woke up about 10am to find Andrew had already taken Bertie for a walk. After breakfast we went out again, walked along to Achiltibuie where Andrew booked us in to the Summer Isles Hotel for a slap-up meal. Back home for lunch, then off in the car on a tiki tour of the area. Andrew stayed at Rief as a boy but he couldn't find the place. We carried on to Inverkirkcraig, where we walked along to the waterfall and back. No rain!

The scenery is stunning in this part of Scotland, and even better in the autumn - the bracken and heather covering all the hills turns a warm rusty russet. The hills are seamed with outcrops of ancient rock and dotted with lochans that are a stunning deep lapis blue on sunny days.

Back home we washed and changed and went out to dinner. Yum. We sat in a deep sofa in front of a blazing fire leafing through a long, long wine list trying to decide, while sipping pre-dinner drinks and nibbling breaded mussels and mushroom parcels. Then we were ushered through to a comfortable dining room and given our first choice of wine and bowls of thick, delicious smoked haddock chowder. That was followed by goujons of langoustine and monkfish. Which was followed by melt-in-your-mouth roast duck. Then came the cheese trolley, groaning with giant truckles. And finally the sweet trolley, swoon. At last we were back in the lounge for coffee and one final little treat - chunks of fudge. Mmm. The service was superb too -- friendly and efficient.

Tuesday: Time for Andrew to return to calving duties on the farm. We attempted a walk but it rained so we headed south in the car. Stopped at Ullapool for lunch at the Ceilidh Place -- very nice -- and then drove like mad to get to the farm in time to see his folks before I headed back to the cottage. John was there but Jenny was delayed at the museum. Bertie had a great run in an empty field -- he'd not been allowed off the lead because of the sheep wandering everywhere. Jenny arrived just before I left. Drove madly back and got there before dark. Nice lazy evening in (after walking Bertie) watching TV and reading.

Wednesday: It was a nice day, so I dragged Bertie off up the hill behind Polbain for lovely views. The ground is boggy, even right up in the hills - you have to be careful where you put your feet. Peat hags are the worst; they look like solid ground but you can find yourself up to your hips in rotten peat if you're not careful. Peat makes for "clean" mud though, it's not sticky. It was windy on the tops but not too cold.

Came back down for lunch then we were off again on a great long expedition, walking and taking pictures. Lots of low-flying fighter jets as usual. This is one odd feature of hill-walking in Scotland -- you walk for hours, find a gorgeous remote glen, sit to enjoy the tranquility and BLAM! a fighter streaks over your head at the speed of sound. I managed to miss the day's heaviest rain by being in the Highland Stoneware pottery in Lochinver at the time.

An aside here about Bertie's experiences: he loved every minute of the holiday. He loves being out in the country; maximum wildlife, minimum people. He became completely hysterical a couple of times, once in the livingroom when he noticed there were chickens in the field below the house. I put into practice some dog-training techniques I'd seen on television with great effect. After that he would just stand whimpering quietly as he watched the hens running round.

His other outburst was in the car, when he saw sheep walking around loose. Owowowowow!!! Look at that!! But once out in the open air he was more circumspect. After all, sheep are about his size and he was outnumbered too. The local dogs were all manic collies, snarling and carrying on, no friendly city types at all. There was a cat up the road, very thrilling! Also cows, goats, geese, deer and of course rabbits. Most frustrating not getting to chase anything, but lots of wonderful smells. I used the extending lead so he could at least pretend he was running free.

On the way home from the big outing I had a flat tyre drama. The tyre picked up a bolt, which was lucky because it made such a racket I stopped before the tyre actually went flat. I jumped out and watched all the air hiss out of it. Bah! I had my mobile and it was even charged up -- but I was out of network. I called the rescue service from a nearby phone box and it was fixed and we were on our way before dark, hurrah.

Thursday: I woke to the sound of gale-force winds and lashing rain. Lingered over breakfast but finally had to take Bertie out. We walked down to the bay between Polbain and Achiltibuie and back, about an hour in all, and we were drenched through! Spent most of the rest of the day indoors reading while the storm raged. At one point the owner, Iain, popped over to say the woman from the shop had rung to say my car window was open. Village life, eh!

I went for a few more walks with Bertie -- one quite long one round towards Altandhu, another at night, and another after Andrew phoned to say he'd just seen the Northern Lights. I hadn't seen them earlier but Andrew said sometimes they were strongest after midnight, so I went out later - nothing. It was too cloudy. What a shame! I stood peering at the sky trying to convince myself I could see them, but no.

Friday: Time to go home. The street was a hive of activity: I was leaving, and Iain and Eva were off on their holidays, and then the bank van arrived and so did all its customers. Worse than Princes Street.

I had to get back in time to greet a visitor, Fiona, so didn't linger around in the area. I did stop in Ullapool to buy Pinky a birthday present and card -- Ullapool has the best gift shops I've seen anywhere. And I stopped in Aviemore for fish and chips and to post Pinky's present. Got home with just enough time to unload, walk the dog and start cooking a meal.

I want to go baaaaaaaack.....

I'm back! It was fantastic. I'll post a travelogue later on -- I'm at work just now. First night back, blah. It's been hosing down with rain all day and it's foggy too, but I got a lot done in the house so that's ok. Housework, laundry and such, nothing exciting.

Only an hour and a half to go and I'm on holiday, whew. I've been looking longingly at the OS map and printing out walking guides. There are cliff walks around the Coigeach peninsula apparently --- you can go all the way round.

My Argentine boss gave me a tape of gaucho music yesterday (Jose Larralde) and I listened to it on the way home and in to work today. It's wonderful, sad and passionate, with acoustic guitar backing, but makes me feel oddly happy. Cowboy music is the same the world over -- though I think the gauchos are a bit more poetical than Hank Wangford. On the other side is a woman singer, Mercedes Sosa. She has a fabulous voice too, sings jazzy Latin political ballads.

Universal White Time Healing New Age Swedes -- it must be the long winters ....

Hurrah, I remembered to call the gas people about the leaky radiator and a man came reasonably promptly and fixed it in five minutes. I've got a service contract, so there wasn't a charge, and he showed me how to fix it myself if it happens again. (Which it apparently will, due to the conformation of my system. Something to do with gravity.)

It was mildly annoying having to hang round for four hours waiting for the gasman, but I gritted my teeth and got stuck in to doing rotas, and also did the dishes, so it wasn't time wasted.

Big surprise up on the meadow this morning: a man in a tractor was mowing it! That's fine, I guess they have to every now and then. But did they have to cut down the wild rose bushes? Bertie was startled but not unhappy -- plenty of gorgeous new smells and of course a perfect race-track. Vroom!

He's unhappy a lot at the moment -- gale force winds are spooking him out. High winds make a whining noise at the back of the house and sometimes blow things over out in the street. He barks at it to make it go away -- not a good idea at 3am.

Guadalupe-Nipomo Dunes Preserve -- I visited this spot ten years or so ago. I couldn't remember the name but today finally found it in a web search. I love the internet!

A bland kind of day. I decided at the last minute that I need to be more organised. Ran around the house cleaning and tidying. Forgot to phone gas people about leaking radiator. When I discovered it the power plug for the phone was lying in a giant puddle -- oops. I turned off all the radiators and the central heating and the hot water but when I left home it was still dripping. I put the roasting dish under it, it's the biggest thing I could find that would fit under the drip. It'll be slopping over about now.

So ... my little burst of organisation may have been counter-productive, but I'm serious about it. The scope for disorder is one of the serious disadvantages of having a big house. In a little flat I couldn't be that disorganised, and generally I knew where stuff was even when I lost control. Now, with dozens of places to put things, finding them again is time-consuming and frustrating.

Has anyone seen my monocular? No, I didn't think so. I haven't seen it since I went to Mull with Trevor & co just before New Year. It's gone.

On-Line Marine Store Tremble at how expensive everything is.

The jam did work ... it's a lovely flobberly jelly with a delicate flavour. A bit too delicate for toast, but I think it would be delicious spooned on to something bland like rice pudding. I would make more, but I've run out of jars.

Yesterday I went to the DIY shop in search of screws for the light switch in the kitchen -- the depth of the tiles made the existing screws too short. The only faceplate screws they had were extra-long, so when I got home I hunted out my vice and clamped the screws to the table (with a cork tablemat for protection) and hacksawed them down. Screwed the faceplate on, to discover that the tiler hadn't cut accurately and there's a biggish gap down the side of the switch. Groan. I hadn't bought any grout (to fill in some gaps where the tiles hit the worksurface) because the only waterproof one said it wasn't suitable for worktops. I had Bertie with me and he was fussing and fretting so I didn't go scouting around for sealant, which is probably what I want.

I'm also starting to think -- with a sinking feeling (hah!) -- that the grout the tiler used isn't waterproof. OK so I didn't specify, but wouldn't you think if you're tiling behind a kitchen sink ... gah. I give up. Anyway most of it is great, so I'm not complaining. Much.

Once again, after a busy day of shopping, dogwalking, DIY and housework, I was too knackered to go out. I'm determined to see Moulin Rouge in a cinema, not on video, so I really must make an effort. Thursday is my next day off. I should just go and book a ticket, force myself to go.

I ordered three records from Amazon (Vespertine by Bjork, Folk by Howie B and Creatures of Light and Dark by Jackie Leven), and the plan is to purchase and install a cheapo CD player in my car so I can listen to the new stuff en route to Polbain. I'm sick of playing tapes -- the quality is pish and you can't get a whole CD on a 90 minute tape. I'm not sure if I can copy audio CDs on my computer -- if so that'll be ideal, because I'll be able to copy loads and just leave them in the car.

Big musical trauma for Bertie this morning: SQ was hosting an all-day pipe band competition. Cue panic -- what is that NOISE? Is someone torturing hundreds of small animals? And the drums, the damned drums, will they never stop? There were bands everywhere, practising, performing, marching -- on the corner of our street next to the library, at the Binks, in the churchyard, in the supermarket car park, in the main street. Around every corner was a fresh horror, culminating in the worst imaginable: children playing bagpipes.

Then in the afternoon a shock for me. "I hear Bertie's been in trouble," said Sandy, one of the regular dog-walkers. I had visions of Bertie waiting until the sound of my car had died away before unlocking the door with the spare keys and heading out for some fun. Turns out that an old lady told Alan, another regular, that Bertie had "stood on" her Westie. And I did remember then one day meeting a woman with a Westie who snapped at me that I should have Bertie on a lead. It was a strange encounter because she never actually looked at me, just dragged her dog away. Poor Bertie, he loves making friends with other dogs, but mostly he somehow manages to offend either the dog or the owner or both.

Today he really excelled himself, barking manically at two (thankfully leashed) dogs, which Sandy told me in hushed tones were staffy-pitbull crosses. Oo er! Be nice, Bertie, there's a good boy. The dogs nearly pulled their owner off his feet trying get at Bertie.

I didn't mean yesterday's entry to be so brief ... I was called off to do something and never got back to the blog. Not that there is much else to report. Work: crazy. Home: busy doing mundane things like mowing the lawn, cleaning up after the tiler and making jam.

I picked a whole lot of blackberries and boiled them up with sugar. I couldn't find a recipe so I winged it. Halfway through I decided there were too many pips, so I tried straining them out. Not a huge success -- a lot of pulp got strained out too. I should have strained before adding the sugar, I think. Anyway the fruit was free, so no biggie if it doesn't work.

There's a bumper crop of blackberries this year, but the flavour isn't that good -- maybe there's been too much rain and not enough sun. They look lovely on the bush, gleaming in great bunches. Bertie got very bored during my picking session, kicking his heels. You would expect him to go off exploring on his own, but he sticks pretty close.

Tim at work brought me a couple of choice souvenirs from his trip to the Falklands, via Buenos Aires: a copy of Hola! (13 Sept issue so full of the Norwegian wedding; it went to press before the atrocities) and a Malvinas badge -- the Argentine flag with a map of the islands on it in gold.

The thing I like about Hola! is that it has great spreads on people I've never heard of. "ALESSANDRO LEQUIO Y MARIA PALACIOS bano de barro terapeutico en Mallorca". Pictures of in-love couple smearing each other with mud on a stony beach. There's one story I must get Andrew to translate, I can't understand it from the pictures, which include one of a woman, SARA MONTIEL, sitting on a sofa with a blanket over her head. Then there are the up-and-coming celebs you know you're going to hear more of: Enrique Iglesias, for example, "uno de los cantantes mas atractivos del mundo", woof woof.

The tiling is done, whew. It looks great, very shiny and clean.

OK tomorrow is now tiling day. The tiler was most apologetic - he assumed the woman at the shop had phoned me. He was going to come yesterday, but I had to change that because of Events. Also had to cancel a craniosacral therapy session, grizzle. This was because my boss finally took some time off & as his deputy wasn't back from New York yet I was doing his job Sunday and Monday, 11:30am to 10pm without a break. Now the deputy has come down with some ghastly flu that's going round New York - as if people there don't have enough grief and pain! - and I may have to work longer hours on Thursday and Friday.

This morning I had my hair done, and because I'd been getting up early for a couple of days I had no trouble getting up early today -- but now I'm starting to flag. I can sleep in a bit tomorrow, the tiler's not coming until 3pm.

Hah. I went mad recently and churned out rotas for our section for up to Christmas. We don't publish on Christmas Day so we get Christmas Eve off every year. According to my calculations, Christmas fell on a Saturday, which we always have off, so hurrah! we all got a nice long weekend. Sigh. No, don't all rush to tell me - Christmas Day is actually on a Tuesday this year.

I'm not very good at rotas.

I'm good at fencing though! I don't know if I mentioned that the firm came through with a quote: £890. Eight hundred and ninety pounds sterling for a fence measuring 30ft by 5ft. Aiiieeee! So on Saturday I drove out on a mission to find something cheaper, much much cheaper. The solution turned out to be bamboo screening. Two rolls, each 16ft long by 5ft high, £100 total. I was pretty exhausted once I'd gotten the rolls home, but I pushed myself to get it erected -- wiring it to the existing 3ft high fenceposts. (Interesting aside: galvanised wire is very difficult to find. DIY shops don't stock it. No wonder Britain's in such a mess! You can't fix anything properly without No.8 fencing wire. I finally found some in a small garden shop - which didn't have bamboo screening, however.) It was a tricky operation, the screening kept falling over and it was hard to get it taut. I finished the last corner just as it was getting dark, not a moment too soon.

The second section is a bit wobbly because it goes uphill and over tree roots (I might go back and rewire it), and the whole thing waves around a bit in the wind. But it's dog proof. Bertie came out to see what I was doing and actually cried when he saw it. Heh. But it means I can let him outside at night without him going awol. And I'll be able to grown sweet peas on it. Now that I've cut down the elder tree and pruned the rowan, my next DIY project is to make a bird feeder.

It's autumn already! Trees are going gold and leaves are falling, blackberries are ripening.

My days off turned out to be just about as stressful as working days! Monday I got up at 8am ready for the tiler.

He didn't show up.

I phoned both his numbers and phoned the shop, without success. While waiting, between phone calls, I hunted out Faye's suitcase and got out the stuff she wanted me to send her, packed it up, wrote her a note and addressed the parcel. Trudged round to the post office, only to discover it was closed - it was a bank holiday. Pah!

Back home I found that the woman at the shop had called in my absence to say she'd realised that my tiles weren't arriving until the next day -- she'd told the tiler that last week, but neither of them had thought to tell me.

I was sooooooo tired I tried to have a nap, but couldn't settle -- there was too much to do! In the end I did a lot of boring chore stuff (including putting everything back on the benches), watched some TV and went to bed early.

Next day was an earlyish start -- I'd offered to collect Pip from the railway station (after posting Faye's parcel of course!). I took Bertie along and it was a good move. He was freaked out of course, though it wasn't his first time there. It's noisy, and the noise is coming from all directions: rumbling engines, cars, floods of people, suitcases with wheels, tannoy announcements, beeping electric vehicles, whistles, it's a cacophony. But the magical effect was that when we went back out on to the street he was much, much calmer. By contrast with the station, it was easy to comprehend: cars, people, no sweat.

After meeting Pip, putting her bag in the car and setting her loose in the city, I took Bertie for a ramble in Holyrood Park, did some shopping and then popped round to see Anthea, who's back from Oslo for a few months. Bertie scored a neat present, a wind-up hamster formerly owned by Jessie, Anthea's cat. The mechanism is all contained inside a furry ball, and apparently it feels incredible when you pick it up in your mouth. I wouldn't know.

More shopping on the way home, this time at Pets At Home (dog food). Pip was already back, we had a glass of wine and a long natter. She spent all day yesterday exploring Edinburgh and left this morning for Stirling.

Now I'm back at work, more stress, more complications, more uncertainty. I try to stay positive but it's a bad atmosphere.

More work-related stress. I've got the next two days off, but they'll both be busy. The tiler's coming at sparrow fart tomorrow - I've already cleared the decks in the kitchen ready for him to get to work - and Anthea's back from Oslo and Pip's coming on Tuesday to stay for two nights. Then my boss is having Thursday, Friday and next Sunday off (having worked on his days off last week and tonight), so I'll be working long hours doing his job.

Still, ony a couple more weeks to go and I'm on holiday for a lovely week. Andrew is coming down the weekend my holiday starts and may come up to the cottage for a couple of nights. I'll run him home from there, it's only a couple of hours' drive.

Another hectic night. Spent a mad half hour or so frantically scouring the internet for logos for a huge last-minute graphic on terrorist groups around the world. Hezbollah has a very whizzy website, Abu Sayyaf has nothing at all.

Nearly time to go home. I'm pretty exhausted, but otherwise ok. I've behind on nearly everything -- it's mainly work and dog-walking at the moment -- but this afternoon I got stuck in to shifting stuff up to the loft, boxes and so forth, and moved Faye's big suitcase into the cupboard at the top of the stairs. In the process of this grubby, sweaty work I found a box full of pictures I'd been half-heartedly looking for for ages, plus another box with a lot of lightbulbs in it. It's great having a big house, but it's ridiculously easy to lose stuff in it.

Busy busy busy at work. Long hours, chaotic scenes, much frustration. Bertie is confused of course, but how do you explain to a dog? "Listen, I have to go into work early and stay late because in a far-off country some terrorists crashed planes into some buildings and many, many people died. OK?"

Looking at the pictures and reading all the coverage is overwhelming. So many stories, so many angles and updates and complications; and the fear, pain, grief, anger. It's exciting to work in a newspaper office when a big story is breaking - and they don't come bigger than this - but it's exhausting too.

Very productive weekend so far. The cold slowed me down a wee bit, but I'm nearly 100% again -- it didn't go to my chest, phew. Thursday morning the fence guy came and measured up. I'm still waiting to hear from him with a quote, but I'll go ahead if it's not too outrageously expensive. His plan is to cut off the existing concrete fenceposts, which are too short, and put in taller timber ones. There will be slats about 3ft high, then trellis to 5ft, so it'll be strong but have an open feel. They have to do something fancy at the top end where the land slopes; he drew me a little picture.

Friday the tiler finally turned up, hurrah, and gave me a quote. He's going to do the tiling on the 17th. I rushed straight off to Linlithgow and chose some tiles -- which were so hot off the press the samples had only arrived that morning. Then Bertie and I went for a walk to Blackness. It was ferociously windy, really wild. On a whim I went for a tour of Blackness Castle, which turned out to be much better than I'd imagined. I'd like to live there! I'm going back with my camera next time. Back home and feeling quite energetic, I attacked the elder tree with the saw, got half of it down. It has to go - scruffy, ailing, and in the way of the new fence.

I finished that today. Sawed and sawed and sawed. It's astonishing how much bigger the tree looked lying on the lawn. Uh, and then I had to cut it up into bits and carry all the bits out to the car. Sweat, sweat, sweat. Meanwhile Jim next door was trimming hedges, we both had our cars brim full of vegetation. Off to the tip, more sweating, then home for a final cleanup before having a much needed shower. At this point I had a bit of a relapse, got a headache that just wouldn't go away and felt blech, even after a quiet walk and some ibuprofen. So I've been blobbing out, and now I'm off to bed.

Tomorrow I've got to finish off all the boring things I've forgotten to do, laundry, work rotas, blah blah, and I may go and see Moulin Rouge in the evening. Work on Monday. How fast this weekend's gone!!

Sniffle, sneurk.

In today's mail I got a guide to the cottage I'm hiring in October. It's in Polbain, on the Coigach Peninsula in Wester Ross.


This is a view of the village of Achiltibuie from above Polbain. As you can see, it's pretty rural. The entire peninsula has two pubs and two shops. The fish van comes round on Fridays, as does the bank van. I'm going home on the Friday, so I'll probably miss all the excitement. I'll have to take my own fish and plenty of cash. Nothing at all is open on Sundays, so I'll also have to bring supplies for dinner that night.

There's a smokehouse in Altandhu, and Chad has recommended the restaurant at the Hydroponicum at Achiltibuie, so I won't go hungry.

I can't wait. It's my favourite part of Scotland, bar none.

I'm ill. Last week I went deaf (kind of) with an ear infection, and this week I've got a slight fever and a runny nose. I'm also soooo tired I could lay my head on my desk and go to sleep. Faye left at around 8am this morning. I offered to drive her to the station but she got the bus into town instead, the dear woman. I went back to bed but only got an hour or so actual extra sleep.

I did hardly anything else today. Raked the lawn with the new rake, not very effectively. Did a load of washing. Walked the dog twice. Went to work.

I'm going home early, I really don't feel well.

So Liz, you can send me a get-well card now!!!

It's official -- Bertie has ringworm, the hedgehog variety. Ewwww! Dirty Bertie! The kid no-one wants to play with!

I don't seem to have any spare time at the moment, I can barely keep up with stuff like laundry.

Yesterday though, Faye being here, it was time for an expedition. It was a toss-up between the Borders and the Highlands and Faye had no preference, so I plumped for the Highlands, a spin up round the Trossachs and back via Loch Lomondside. En route, however, after lunch in Callender, I changed my mind and we pushed on to do the Glen Coe loop. It was raining, and Glen Coe is fantastic whatever the weather.

Bertie enjoyed his romp in the glen -- he enjoyed the whole trip, despite the rain and despite spending so much time in the car. On the last leg -- in heavy rain, against the clock because of the fireworks concert -- he slept like a dead dog. When we arrived back home he leapt out of the car wagging his tail, thinking he was in yet another exciting new place. It was funny watching the realisation dawn: hey, that fence looks familiar ... and that bush ... HUH!

We were in time to catch the train to Edinburgh for the concert. It was drizzling a bit, but we had a good view -- no music, but them's the breaks. We left the house in such a rush I forgot the radio (the music is played by the Scottish Chamber Orchestra in the Princes St Gardens, and broadcast on a local station). We watched from Waverley Bridge, right outside the station, and afterwards we just had to turn round and head back down. Long queue, long wait, but eventually we made it home.

This morning there was a gorgeous answering machine message from Cathy and Leighanne, calling from "far, far away": "We're looking for our mother. We heard she was at your house playing. Tell her to come home, because we miss her." Faye phoned them back: "Will you kids just leave me alone? I can't leave the country for FIVE MINUTES without you pestering me!" Shucks, they're so sweet you could eat them with a spoon.

Today's adventure was a trip to the continental farmers' market in town. It was a three-day affair, started on Friday. It was a reasonable facsimile of a continental market, complete with genuine foreigners, but smaller. The market, not the foreigners. Some of them were quite large. I bought a bag of plums, big plump delicious plums the like of which I've not seen in Britain. Faye bought bread and some Dutch ginger cake, and then we had crepes. Faye had a chorizo and cheese one, I had chocolate. We were eating them when I felt something on my hand. I looked down and there was sticky chocolate sauce all down my clean white shirt, all down my clean jeans and even spattered on my clean feet and clean sandals. Faye came to the rescue with a couple of (clean) hankies, but we had to roar back home in a hurry so I could change. She bought more chorizo at the supermarket and we had the bread with it for lunch, followed by ginger cake.

Now I'm at work, which was blissfully peaceful tonight. Friday night nearly did my head in, it was so stressful. I've got a few days off at the end of this week, and I'm determined to use them to get myself organised. Hah.

Disturbing pavement graffiti: on a narrow bit of footpath opposite the vet I noticed the word "NIL" repeated several times. When I looked closer, I saw that there was a neat little hole drilled above each NIL. Someone had drilled holes and found nothing. Is that good?

Ack. I just lost a long piece on the books I'm reading. It's gone, links and all. I can't be bothered to write it again. Here's a picture to look at.

It's a great read.

Amazing! Tonight I signed up for online banking with my NZ bank -- completely fuss-free process. So now I can log on any time and find out my balance. It was astoundingly simple, even from this great distance.

Great weekend, focused on gardening. Yesterday I weeded, a major event - it was horribly overgrown. I really need to go back and grub the convolvulus out properly from the front garden, I just tidied it really, before rain stopped play. Today I mowed and strimmed, back and front.

Other than that I did stuff all. Ate (pork stir-fried with curly kale and my own home-grown garlic, in oyster sauce. YUM.), loafed, rested, read, watched TV, walked the dog. Oh and tonight I worked, an easy night since there was only one page.

Supermarket trauma tonight. I'd run out of just about everything so I went to the 24-hr Tesco in my break. For a start the traffic was horrendous. It's a) Friday night; b) a bank holiday weekend; c) during the Festival; and d) the Tattoo is still on. Every street was congested, not just with cars but with drunken clubbers, distracted theatre-goers, lost tourists. I managed to negotiate my way through it all and spent an agreeable 45 minutes mingling with the large crowd following a man with a pricing gun who was creating bargains. I think I got everything on my imaginary list, certainly got a lot of stuff that wasn't on it.

Then after moving through the checkout at a leisurely pace ("I only got an hour's sleep this morning! I don't know how I'm going to last the night," confided the assistant. "Ooo! Limes! What do you do with those?") I rejoined the traffic frenzy.

This time I had an added bonus: a silent migraine. I've had this before. I get a migraine aura -- nausea and weird visual effects -- but no headache. The visual effects are disconcerting, especially while driving. My field of vision is interrupted by a roughly circular jagged line of bright light, inside of which everything is blurred. In the bright, jagged part, I can't see. It's not a black spot or anything, it's just an absence of vision. Weird. It swallows up important visual clues like traffic lights, signs ... drunken pedestrians. The other bonus was that I met up with the post-Tattoo rush -- gajillions of pedestrians plus coaches, taxis, cars. A nightmare.

Obviously I survived. And the boot is full of lovely fruit and veg and meat. Treats: mint-flavoured Twix (I must have bought that just as the migraine thing was coming on, the thought of it makes me feel slightly sick now) and two extremely ripe, extremely cheap mangoes, yum.

I'm off home now. I've plotted a course that will avoid most of the central city turmoil. First I drive down to Berwick on Tweed, then cut across to Carlisle ...

Bothan na' Tilleadh -- I've tentatively booked five days here in October, a bargain at £100 all in. It sleeps four, so if anyone wants to join me, they're welcome. Remote spot, but very beautiful.

I sent away for the price list for the Klepper kayaks and they're not out of the way .... £1,200 for a basic one-seater. Plus hundreds of pounds for all the extras of course. But as that includes sails ... well, it's starting to sound like the ideal boat. And I forgot to buy a lottery ticket today ...


Does this look like fun or what? This is a downwind sail -- you need the wind behind you. Below is the full sailing rig, with which you can sail into the wind as well.


And it all folds down

Oh man. I really have to get one of these Klepper folding kayaks now.

The stuff about them being designed for the SAS during the war isn't true. Here's what really happened: "In 1907 a tailor from Rosenheim in Bavaria had a simple idea. This tailor, Johann Klepper, wanted to build a foldable kayak that he could take wherever his heart desired. Klepper's longing for unlimited freedom, travel and adventure ultimately led to the first commercial production of foldable kayaks."

But still, they are perfect for fitting limpet mines...

Cripes, nearly a week since I wrote anything here. I would have written something yesterday but my ISP was having a coniption fit and wouldn't let me stay logged on longer than a couple of seconds.

Whatever. The Bamboo Curtain was a failure. Bertie jumped right through it, screeching as he was scraped by wire and stakes. Thank goodness he didn't impale himself. So now I don't let him out at night. During the day he's ok, he doesn't jump through, but I still watch him while he's out there.

I spent the weekend on a sailing course. Saturday it was "dinghy cruising", Sunday was "dinghy drifting" -- how to drift your dinghy on the tide, with the sails flopping loosely.

We (seven of us in three Wayfarer dinghies, plus two instructors in an inflatable) spent Saturday morning doing triangles, just what I'd hoped NOT to be doing, but I guess they have to assess everyone. We were all good at triangles, so in the afternoon we moved on to anchoring and went for a short spin downriver, just past the rail bridge. The wind had picked up and and we had a great couple of hours sailing, fast and bouncy, with spray flying.

While we were anchoring, I saw what I thought was a haar rolling in, and just before we came in it started raining. Hard. I was wet anyway, so rather than change into dry clothes, I walked home in my sailing kit. Good move -- it rained so hilariously hard I was thoroughly rinsed of salt by the time I got to my door. I dried myself off, changed, and waiting for it to stop raining so I could walk Bertie. It didn't stop, so we walked in the rain. It kept on raining, all night it rained.

In the morning, it was still raining. but the wind had died away almost completely. We looked at the chart and rolled the special ruler over it and calculated the tide and made bearings and came up with a course plan.

We rigged up our boats in the rain and paddled out of the harbour and off upriver, sails flopping. The plan was to sail to Blackness, anchor there for a short while, then head across the river to Charlestown for a picnic lunch, before heading back to Port Edgar. Ha ha. It took us so long to float soggily up to Blackness that we went straight across to Charlestown. We took so interminably long getting across that the instructors had to tow us across the shipping channel to avoid getting in the way of a tanker.

We anchored in Charlestown harbour and climbed into the inflatable, which the instructors then beached. There was a man sitting in his car as we filed up the beach in the rain -- someone suggested we see if there was enough room in there for all of us, it looked quite cosy. There was no sign of a pub -- though it's unlikely a pub would have welcomed nine dripping mariners. We plodded morosely round to a rocky breakwater and sat perched on our lifejackets eating soggy sandwiches. It rained and rained and rained. The fog had been slowly creeping in and by the time we'd finished our lunch we couldn't see across to Blackness. We certainly couldn't see the bridges.

Since we obviously couldn't sail back -- the tide hadn't turned yet and there was not a breath of wind -- the plan changed. The dinghies were tied to the inflatable and we had a glum trip back. We derigged the boats in record time -- I've certainly never folded and stowed a sail that quickly -- got dried off and changed and rushed to the canteen .... which was of course closed. Huh. After a debriefing we went home. Very disappointing end to the course. The annoying thing is that I was booked in to the course in July, and it was cancelled because only I was booked. The weather that weekend was much better.

I'm reading a book by Paul Theroux and the moment that has several of his kayaking stories in it and I'm tempted again by the idea of getting a kayak. He has a collapsible one that packs down into two bags. During the sailing course I was thinking how great it would be to kayak up the Forth -- or better yet, to go to Stirling and kayak home. I could explore the coast for quite a distance on short trips from here.

Today I finally got someone else organised to do the tiling in the kitchen. The last people failed to turn up -- I phoned every week for a month and gave up when the tiler went on holiday for three weeks. "Maybe I should get someone else to do the job," I said. "Yes dear, that would probably be best." This time it's a Linlithgow company, the man will come and look over the job in the next few days. The quote was about £160 less than the last one, so that's a bonus.

The computer's nearly ready -- I've just got to reinstall all my software and restore the backed up files. Hah, that'll only take ... forever. Anyway, once forever rolls around I'll post some photos from the garden.

I have to take some more photos too, of my latest project -- dog-proofing the back fence. It was a real conundrum. It had to be high enough to keep a greyhound in, but somehow I have to be able to get over to collect my house key from its Secret Hiding Place if I lock myself out again. I had a brainwave and today bought a bundle of 6ft bamboo stakes. It took about half an hour to create the Bamboo Curtain, a flimsy affair that will be easy enough to dismantle in an emergency but looks convincingly like a barrier to a dim greyhound. I hope so anyway. I'll have to get a few more stakes -- I had to improvise at one end with branches cut off the manky rowan in the corner (I doubt if it is a rowan, actually, it has no berries) and parts are constructed with thin garden wire, which will be invisible at night.

The first real trial is in about an hour, when I let Bertie out for a pee.

He's recovered from his ennui, by the way. Today when we passed the car he stood by it looking so pathetically hopeful that I loaded him in and took him to Blackness for a run. Sort of an apology for forgetting to collect his ringworm medicine. Oops, bad owner.

It's finally hot, but unfortunately it's also raining, so not very pleasant at all. Especially here at work, it's stifling.

Bertie was all droopy with post-holiday let-down syndrome today. Plod plod plod around the usual routes, nothing interesting or new to look at. Rain. Heat. Blah. The roads were busy and we had quite a wait to cross the road by the supermarket. Instead of eagerly straining to be off down the railway walk he stood limply at my side like a greyhound-shaped rag. Eeyore, the scabby donkey. Speaking of which, the vet called back and the first test has come up negative for ringworm. Which doesn't mean he doesn't have ringworm. The next test result will be another month. In the meantime we're going to pretend it is ringworm. He'll have tablets for two weeks, and if it's clearing up, then for another two weeks. If not, it's really not ringworm and he'll have antibiotics for a bacterial infection.

Coincidentally today I noticed another patch, on his neck. That's five altogether, from an original two. Blech.

I just Googled it (I love the internet) and found that ringworm, tinea, jock itch and athlete's foot are all the same thing -- a fungus. I was surprised about the tablets, but I guess the cream is poisonous. Anyway, I hope it works, because he's getting really scabby looking, and I'm worried about catching it myself.

Bertie and I are back from a thrilling visit to the farm. Bertie is shattered from all the excitement, he's been sleeping pretty much the whole time since we got back.

I took him for a pee walk this evening and on the way back collected stuff from the car. When I opened the door to get my camera, he climbed into the back seat and wouldn't get out!!!! He got so used to climbing into the car over the past few days, and there was always somewhere exciting at the other end of the journey. We went for several long walks every day, mostly to places where he could run like blazes -- gigantic gardens! whole fields! enormous beaches! endless forests! There were cats everywhere, fascinating smells, even new animals (cows ... very scary). Everyone was lovely to him and he was patted and petted and praised from one end of Nairnshire to the other. To cap it all off, this afternoon he and Andrew had a hectic game of football.

Oh, and I had a nice time too.

So then I came home from the farm tonight and got my computer out of its box and yes, it does work. Last week when I got it back I plugged it in and it didn't work. So I took it back to the shop on Friday morning, the day I was going up to the farm. And the wee man just flipped it out of the box, plugged it in and it went. He wasn't too nauseatingly triumphalist, but still. They'd had to wipe the hard drive and replace loads of stuff so I had to reinstall everything & it was a palaver to say the least. I didn't have time to set it all up before I left on Friday so I did it tonight.

Now I'm going to bed, because I'm now just as shattered as Bertie.

Sound of Dunedin This bookmark is for the origins of something called "The Dunedin Sound" -- sample headings The Joe Brown Empire, Bodgies, Widgies, Teddy Boys and Milk Bar Cowboys, A Rattray Street Reminiscence, The Titans: Kings of the Bible Class Circuit.

Anyone my age or a little older will be flipping out right now.

Bad Dog! Bad Dog!

Last night after our walk Bertie was whining and pacing around, so I let him out the back door into the garden. Bad move. He jumped the fence and shot across next door's back yard to rummage in the hedge looking for a way to get at the geriatric cats. It was 2am, so I was loath to yell, and whispering "come here" had zero effect. In the end I tricked him into coming by appearing to walk away down the alley. Possibly also a bad move in the long term, since up until that minute he didn't seem to have clicked that the whole world is open to him once he's jumped the fence.

Anyway in the short term it worked, and I dragged him back into the house. Without speaking to him I went straight upstairs to bed, shutting my bedroom door behind me. I could hear him crying piteously, but ignored him.

In the morning he was transformed into a very, very good little doggie, eager to please in any way possible. I'll have to try teaching him to do housework. I've abandoned the extending lead & expected some manic pulling, but he walked at my side sweet as can be. He obeyed every order. Most miraculous, when we emerged for the afternoon walk he deliberately turned his head away from the house where the cats live -- looking over there is something I'd been forbidding loudly.

Tomorrow we have an appointment with the vet -- possible outbreak of ringworm or similar, ewww!! He has a couple of raw, scaly patches on his face and now there's one on his leg. Bet he caught it off that hedgehog.

Today I'm back to my usual hours of work, 4.30pm to 1am. The past few days I've been doing 11.30am to 10pm, which means I had to get up at around 8am in order to dawdle over breakfast for an hour before walking the dog and having a shower. Saturday I had to get up early as well, because of going to the fair. So today was my first chance to sleep in and make up the sleep deficit.

I woke up at 6am and couldn't get back to sleep. Even Bertie wasn't interested in being up that early. Right now I'm sooooo tired.

It was good though, having so much time. As well as all the usual stuff, I backed up my computer, unplugged all the peripherals, fetched its box from the loft and packed it nicely ready for the trip back to the shop. Made the trip to the computer shop at a leisurely pace -- just as well, because the traffic was abominable -- then collected the film that had been ready since last week and visited the pet supermarket for snacks, treats and a new collar. I've put Bertie's tags on this collar, a thin loose one, so if he pulls out of his regular collar while out and about, he's still got my phone number.

Back home I had plenty of time for another dog-walk and a shower before work.

Great news tonight! Liz and Ken are engaged. Sweet! I must get one of those digital cameras, the close-up detail of Liz's ring (and fingers) is stunning.

Busy busy busy. Mainly with work -- looong shifts doing the boss's job -- and dog-walking. The dog's in bad odour at the moment, having seriously monstered a neighbour's two cats. I had previously thought there was just the one cat, they're both black and white and fluffy. I patted one once and it was so terribly thin I was concerned for its welfare. But on taking the trembling survivor home after Friday night's attack I discovered that not only does it have a thyroid condition, it's 19 years old. Nineteen. That's 133 in dog years. The other one is 12. No wonder Bertie can get them bailed up -- it's like Sebastian Coe chasing the Queen Mother.

I went to the Traquair Fair yesterday, to meet up with Richard and his family who are up from England on holiday. It's the most laid-back event I've ever been to -- hippy heaven, with tipis, vegeburgers, folk music, alternative healing tents and at least four aromatherapy stalls. I realise now that I have the word DEADLINE running through me like a stick of letter rock, with hurry up! in smaller type.

It was lovely -- it's a beautiful setting, an ancient house surrounded by hills and forests, and there was lots going on -- but heavy showers of rain spoiled it somewhat. It was great seeing Richard again, and I also bumped into other people I hadn't seen for ages, so all in all it was fun. I bought some essential oils (Rose Maroc and Clary Sage) and a colourful little bag for my CD walkman thing. No dogs allowed, so Bertie had to stay home.

For reasons far too complicated to go into here, last Wednesday was a washout and I didn't get to take my computer in to the shop. I've been working all the hours since then, so I'll probably get it in tomorrow or Tuesday. It'll maybe take them three days to reinstall Windows, if that's the problem, or replace the modem.

Must get on with my work now.

The heat, the heat ... it must have been nearly 70F out there today. That's 21C for kiwis. And the sun was shining and everything!

Yesterday (Monday) I checked my strawberry plant and the first one was just on the cusp of ripeness. Mmm, pick that tomorrow, I thought. Hah! First thing this morning the strawberry, luciously ripe, was lying half-eaten on the ground. Bastard wildlife. I'm making a new shopping list: BB gun, slug pellets, slingshot, electric netting ...

Bertie can't cope with heat, but he's not as bad as the spinone we often meet out walking. He's a mountain dog, used to cool climes. Today when his owner and I stopped to chat, the poor thing sat panting under a tree, in grass still cool and wet from last night's rain. Bertie stood panting in full sun -- he likes the limelight even if it is uncomfortable.

I cleared a few long outstanding chores today which felt quite good. Loads still to do however, and I've gone and arranged a lunch date for tomorrow, my one day off.

What a day today, whizzing around madly from pillar to post and back again. Work was restful by comparason.

One of my appointments was with Calum, my lovely dentist. Over the years his skill and clean pinkness have completely cured my phobia about dentists. I can almost relax in his chair, knowing he'll only hurt me a little bit. Today I had a root canal filling -- he'd cleaned it out and dressed it last week and finished it properly this time. No anaesthetic because the nerve was dead, so no rubber lips and no painful reawakening of nerve endings. Plenty of pain in the old wallet though -- £115, ka-ching!

It's raining. It's cold. Sigh. Saves the effort of watering the garden I guess. Sigh. We never did get that heatwave ...

Terrible words to hear while filling my trolley at Tesco:

"Would the owner of the white greyhound please come to the customer service desk."

I whisked down to the front of the shop where sure enough, through the plate-glass window, I saw Bertie -- collarless -- run past looking anxious. I parked my trolley and dashed out. People were looking on in amazement as Bertie ran back and forth in front of the windows, scanning for a familiar face or a way in. He came to me quite meekly though, and I tied him up, fastening his collar with an eye-bulging tightness.

At least he didn't try and head for home -- traffic was pretty heavy yesterday afternoon.

He's never backed out of his collar before, though I've been aware that it's getting looser as the leather stretches. They have such tiny heads for their neck size it's hard to get the collar tight enough without making it uncomfortable. One thing I'm going to do for sure though is to get a thin, looser collar for him to wear his tags on. That way if he does escape from the leash he'll still have ID (apart from the microchip).

This week is going to be madly busy workwise and I only have Wednesday off. Tomorrow is used up with appointments so I won't get to tackle my computer grief until Tuesday at the earliest.

We're supposed to be having a heatwave. It's blistering everywhere else in the country, but here it's just ... warm. Right now (11pm) I'm actually cold, I've got a T-shirt on and wish I'd brought a sweatshirt or something with me. Some heatwave. Huh.

OK, so quickly: Monday I trailed all the way to the Post Office with all the documentation needed to pay the road tax only to find I'd taken the wrong MOT certificate with me. Grinding of teeth. After that, I don't know ... I think I took Bertie to Blackness for a run and cooked a nice ratatouille for dinner. I'm sure I must have done something else ... oh yes, I remember, I broke my computer.

Tuesday: Lunch with Anthea, followed by a trip to the dentist for a root canal filling. Lunch was delicious -- warm squid salad at Sweet Melinda's in Marchmont, and the dentist wasn't too bad. The nerve was dead anyway, so I didn't need an injection and my jaw wasn't aching afterwards.

On the way home I stopped at Homebase and bought a strimmer. Got home and foolishly didn't change my clothes before trying it out. I had no idea strimming leaves you plastered head to toe with shredded weeds and bits of whatever gunk is lurking amongst them. What a cool piece of equipment though! Vroom! Zing! After strimming I mowed, so the lawn looks almost decent now. Next I have to strim the front of the house. Yee haw.

So that was that. Not very exciting, eh. But I love it. I'm soooo sad. Sigh.

Week after next I've decided Bertie is ready for another trip up the learning curve. We're going to the farm. This is my friend Andrew's parents' farm, up near Nairn. They have 12 cats and 100 cattle. Yes indeedy, he's in for a few surprises up there.

I won't have time to update tonight, maybe tomorrow. Tsk, I'm really falling behind.

Well I have busted my new computer! That didn't take long, did it? It's not completely busted, just the modem doesn't work any more. I suspect a software glitch rather than physical meltdown, but it's a bugger either way. It means no online work at home, so I have to do it all at work. It's expensive too -- it forced me to spend an hour on the phone today talking to Pinky, 10,000 miles away.

I won't have time to even talk to the techies at the shop until next week, so I'll have to be disciplined until then.

So ... my days off. Saturday: Went to the auction, which was lots of fun. I didn't buy anything, though I had to sit on my hands to stop myself bidding for crates of useless stuff, just because it was so cheap. Hundreds of beer glasses going for a song! (The hitch there was you didn't get to pick them up until Sunday, after the big closing-down party. You could conceivably end up paying £10 not for hundreds of beer glasses but for six chipped sherry glasses.) They had a big screen set up and showed slides of the various lots as they came up.

The varied list of stuff on sale attracted a very mixed crowd -- locals, dealers of every stripe, gawpers, collectors, all sorts. We were not big spenders, however, and the auctioneer got quite ratty. "Fifty pound to start. Forty. Thirty." Long pause. "Ten pound! Come on! Ten to start." Another pause. "What's the matter with ye? Five pound then, who'll give me five? No-one? Surely... come on, this is a bargain." I like the eccentric ways a bid can develop -- it starts out like that, with the auctioneer working back from £50 and finally getting a £5 opener. Then someone else raises it to £10, and there's a little rush of bidding and suddenly the price is back up to £50.

The pictures I wanted turned out to be prints rather than oil paintings, but still went for quite a high price. I wouldn't have minded paying what they went for, but if I'd joined the bidding they would have gone higher; bidding was brisk. The ship prints were more complicated: there were several lots of a pair each, and the winner of the first lot had an option of buying through, of buying the rest at the same price. They didn't want them all, so there was renewed bidding for the next lot, and the bloke who got that pair did take the rest. The model ship: well, I looked the name up on the internet and found you could get a new one for $29.99. It sold at the auction for £30, plus 10% buyer's premium, plus VAT. Not a bargain. The carpet in the ladies loo went for £10.

After just two hours at the auction (not even halfway through) I staggered out faint from the heat and airlessness of the room, collected Bertie and zoomed off to Blackness for a romp. It was high tide, a very high high tide, water was sloshing and crashing up on the sea wall.

Bertie again showed why we humans are in charge. See the water at the top of the wall, I think "Boy, that must be quite deep." Bertie thinks "This water is only a couple of inches deep" and plunges in. He was so surprised. And then of course he had real trouble getting out. On a dry day he's free with a single mighty bound, but with water up to his chest it took him a few clumsy, lurching goes to jump back out on to the grass.

Watching all this was a female greyhound, on a lead. Shaking himself off, Bertie hurried up to say hi. And HELLO, baby! "She's still a little bit in heat," explained her owner as Bertie investigated delicious smells. Sadly she wasn't interested AT ALL and told him so with a snarl. He took off at a full sprint, presumably to show her what she was missing. He's such a dorky teenager sometimes.

Sunday: Spent most of the day in the front garden, weeding, weeding, weeding. There's some ghastly weed taking over the front garden and lawn and I don't even know what it is. It's feathery, a bit like an asparagus fern but juicier, and the whole thing's segmented, so when you grab hold of it, it falls apart. Every last little bit that falls on the ground grows into a new plant. The roots are segmented too, so you can't dig it out without sieving all the soil. It's everywhere. Meanwhile on the other bed, along the wall, the convolvulus was regaining a foothold. Its alternative name is "devil's guts", because of the root system. Again, almost impossible to get rid of.

Hey, it's time to go home! I'll have to finish this tomorrow. If I get time ...

Amusing incident from this morning's walk: I was walking along the pathway that cuts through the meadow and heard the drumming of Bertie's feet behind me. Knowing he likes to sprint right past, I sidestepped to let him by.

I sidestepped the wrong way and he slammed into the back of my legs at full speed. We were both pretty surprised, but there were no injuries.

I went down to Hawes Inn[warning: link has irritating popup advert] today to the auction viewing. It was quite odd -- the bar was still open, but they had been running the stock down for so long there was almost nothing left. "A Becks then." "No, sorry, there's none left." "Coke?" "No." And so on.

And everything had a little numbered sticker on it.

The variety is mind-boggling. Some samples of what's on offer:

Lot 36: 2 X REPLICA FLINT LOCK PISTOLS
Lot 52: 9 LITRE H20 FIRE EXTINGUISHER
Lot 186: DARTBOARD, CABINET & SPOTLIGHT
Lot195: 1 X LARGE SHIPS WHEEL
Lot 209: APPROX 21' OF BRASS FOOTBAR
Lot 465: CURTAIN IN ROOM 19
Lot 599: LENGTH OF STEEL CHAIN AT FRONT OF BUILDING

Things I'm interested in:
Lot 311: FRAGATO SIGLO XVIII MODEL SHIP
Lot 313: 4 OIL PAINTINGS OF HIGHLAND SCENES
Lots 441-447 PR OF NAVAL PRINTS

The oil paintings are lovely -- small, romantic Victorian views of lochs and glens and bens, with sheep and long-horned cattle dotted picturesquely about. The naval prints aren't ships-at-sea paintings, but line drawings as if for a technical manual, showing all the rigging and specs. Most are sailing ships, but some are WWI warships, the Dreadnought and such. Very nice. They're all bunched together though. I think whoever buys the first lot gets the rest at the same price.

Registering didn't cost anything so I went ahead, and I've got a number to flash at the auctioneer. I doubt I'll end up buying anything -- there were a lot of dealers there today making copious notes, I don't think us amateurs stand much chance against them. It'll be interesting though.

Things you would have to be mad to buy:
Lot 19: CARPET IN LADIES TOILET
Lot 453: 7 PRS OF BURGUNDY CURTAINS IN PUBLIC BAR

And finally, from the STORE ROOM AND BACK OFFICE:
Lot 551: REALISTIC KAREOKI MACHINE

This is the Hawes Inn, right at the foot of the Forth Bridge in South Queensferry. Robert Louis Stevenson stayed there. It features in his novel Kidnapped, in fact I think he might have written some of it there. The inn -- pub, restaurant and hotel -- milks the connection for all it's worth. For example the tables have glass tops covering montages of pages from Kidnapped, pictures of RLS and other mementos, and there are big portraits outside of characters from Kidnapped.

It's historic, right?

Well apparently the new owners, Bass, are going to revamp it and make it a theme pub. Uh, I'm sorry? What theme is that? Oh, a "Vintage Inns" theme.

The Evening News says: "Within months, the pub's Victorian graffiti will be erased and Stevenson quotes on the walls will vanish, making it a mirror image of other Vintage Inns around the UK - which are all decorated with fake antiques and new wood distressed to look old."

On Saturday they're auctioning off all the furniture and fittings, so I'm going down there tomorrow for the viewing, see if there's anything worth bidding for. Happily the local museum got wind of all this early and managed to persuade Bass to donate a bit of history: a collection of mariners' badges given to the pub by sailors over the years.

The pub also features a collection of foreign money -- notes from all countries imaginable are stapled to the walls all around the bar. I wonder if they'll auction that. Can you auction money?

Frustrating sort of day

Just as it got hot and sunny, I was called in to work early. But by the time I got there the panic was over and I needn't have been early at all. Hmm.

Anyway I spent a bit of time shifting my stereo to a better spot, in the course of which I discovered that the radiator in the corner of the living room had been leaking quietly on the new floorboards. Yes, the boards that were only recently relaid after the Great Day-Before-Hogmanay Flood of 2000. They are slightly buckled in the corner, but you can only really notice it if you're crouched down with your head in the corner. And the beading is all soggy too. My solution -- based on a hazy notion garnered from something a gas fitter said once about the heating system in my old flat -- was to turn on the bathroom radiator. And I'll call in the gas people next week -- I've got a service contract.

How I noticed the leak was that I picked up the trailing end of the extension cord to unplug the stereo and it was all wet. No, there was no explosion. Phew.

After shifting the stereo I couldn't listen to it to see if it sounds better over there by the TV, because the shelves have a solid back and the stereo's cord isn't long enough to reach the extension cord's outlet from the front. The tidiest solution is to cut holes in the backboard of the set of shelves for all the equipment -- stereo & video power cords, speaker cords, aerial cable in and out. This will involve taking the whole kit and kaboodle down, marking the holes required carefully, drilling them, taking plugs off the power cords, poking the cords through the holes and rewiring. Unless of course I drill holes big enough for the plugs as well. How? Erm.... dunno. A trip to Homebase threatens. I should do it properly, because I know how satisfying that would be. No More Ugly Trailing Wires.

While I'm at it I could also tack the TV aerial cable up around the french doors rather than leave it trailing across the doorway.

Why do we have to have wires and cables anyway? Why isn't everything space-age?

All the modern age has brought us is a squillion more devices that need plugging in. Most of the rooms in my home have one of those four-gang extension cords, full. The computer and peripherals use a six-gang board. Even the phone has a power cord (as well as the phone jack), ditto the answering machine, and of course then there's the modem upstairs with its miles of cable to the jack point in the bedroom. And it's still not enough -- I've got an electric lawnmower that requires a great long extension reel, which I also use for the iron.

There is no plug at all in the bathroom, so electric-shaving visitors have to depilate elsewhere. (There are a couple of mystery switches in there, one near the ceiling and another outside the door. I have no idea what they're for.)

What I should do is bite the bullet and call in the experts, get an electrician to put in a couple more circuits, pepper the walls with outlets.

What I really want though is infra-red linking and cold fusion, a fuss-free power source that shrinks electrical equipment down and no messy wires. Then you could have a antique-looking house, lush and comfortable, with the hi-tech toys tucked discreetly away. I'd like a TV that was like a swivelling door panel, for example. Computer in my handbag.

All this stuff I expected to be here by now, we were promised it in the 60s. Mind you, a lot of it I don't want -- I don't even want a microwave, let alone one of those ghastly Star Trek replicators, burping out Telaxian dainties, and filthy as I am I don't want a robot cleaning my house. I certainly don't want a fridge that orders your food for you. Some of it I thought I didn't want but now I do -- a watchphone, yes please.

Went to the movies last night, saw Together, which I highly recommend. It's set in a hippie commune in the 70s, and is excruciatingly accurate -- I was amazed to see how like 70s NZ hippie communes the Swedish one was! Some of it was funny, sad and painful all at once. One of the things I liked about it was that it showed most children as being naturally "straight" -- they hate being embarrassed by "wacky" adults; they like routine and to fit in with their school friends. The communards seemed much more immature by contrast, sleeping around and bickering pointlessly.

A sample scene: the new boy in the commune has a box of Lego. Tet (named after the Tet Offensive) sees him playing with it. "Is that real Lego?" "Yes." "My father was going to carve me a Lego set, but he only made two blocks."

We also had a slap-up meal at Black Bo's, a wonderful vegetarian restaurant. Everything was delicious. I've never had a duff meal there, it's always superb, and last night was no exception. Yum.

The weather seems to be clearing up a bit ... there was quite a bit of blue sky this afternoon and it wasn't raining too hard this morning. I really need to get out into the garden this week so I hope I get some fine mornings.

Busy busy busy. The weather is so crap that even I'm bugged by it. I honestly don't mind the Scottish climate at all, I prefer a summer that's not too hot. But this morning as I was walking the dog, parka fully zipped, hood up, hands in pockets, I thought -- this is not good. This is bad. In May I was enjoying eating breakfast outdoors; now the sandal tan lines on my feet are fading. It's cold. It's wrong.

Bertie loves it though, he likes braking hard from a full sprint on wet grass -- wheeeee!

And the garden of course is doing well with the regular downpours. The alleged blackcurrant bushes have fruited -- and tada! they are raspberries. Big fat ones. I have to race the birds for them. I also found wild strawberries up under the bridge, they are delicious. Tiny, like fairy fruit, and intensely flavoured. My own strawberry plant has flowered, so have the tomatoes. The weeds are growing like weeds, and the lawn's becoming a lush meadow, too wet to mow.

Major, major achievement today: I got stuck in and tidied the study. It was a total mess, cluttered with stuff, a ghastly glory hole where important documents had crawled away into corners to die.

One of the important documents turned out to be my car's current MoT. Yes, current! I'd thought it had expired in August last year, but today I found the one that expires later this month. Phew.

Now the study is lovely and tidy, all the important documents stowed away, the CD-ROMs and floppies sorted and stacked, pictures and posters hung. I even cleaned the windows. Fab.

To celebrate (and also because the sun had finally come out) I drove Bertie to Blackness. It was hotching with people and their pets, all rushing out to soak up the sun after all that haar. Bertie disgraced himself thoroughly, barking wildly at little children, even chasing one poor boy. Luckily the boy wasn't freaked out, even when he fell over and Bertie was barking right in his face. I was mortified, because I couldn't catch him -- he was out of control. Something Must Be Done. If it was my kid and someone else's dog I would have been punching the owner, just as well Bertie only monsters children with laid-back parents.

Back to work tomorrow, for two long hard weeks. My boss is away so I've got a few days coming up working in his stead, the end of next week. The rest of the time he's away will be hard because the sub's away too, his mother's critically ill in the US.

Forgot about last night's drama. I let Bertie into the garden at about midnight -- he was whining at the door -- and he rushed up the back and started barking. Not his usual "monster alert" bark, which is a tenor, but a deeper, more urgent tone. It means "gotcha!" and what he'd got was of course a hedgehog. By the time I got there it was almost all over. He was shaking the poor critter ferociously, snarling and growling, and whining too, because of course shaking a hedgehog to death is a painful business.

I managed to get him back into the house and calmed down from his killing frenzy -- he's quite scary in this state, because he uses all his considerable strength, he's pure power. Afterwards he was trembling and gasping, it took him a while to settle. The contrast between this dog and the one that cringes back from an armchair left out in the street is staggering. Real Jeckyll and Hyde stuff.

Big adventure for Bertie today (oh, yesterday ... it's late at night). We walked across the road bridge and up around the top of North Queensferry, and caught the train back.

The fog is still around, getting a bit tiresome now. My tan is fading!

Website update: Bertie has his own page now, lots of pictures and his pedigree. Check it out!

The garage can take my car on Monday, so I just have to be super-careful over the weekend.

The haar is hanging on ... misty moisty and chilly today. Last night it lifted slightly, so that you could see the bottoms of the bridges but not the tops. Very, very strange effect. The road bridge pylons have red flashing lights on top, but you couldn't see them at all or the suspension cables, just the curve of the roadway. Floodlighting combined with the fog make the rail bridge look totally weird, a truncated red basketwork, reflected in the water. The visual effects were enhanced because otherwise it seemed a normal cloudy night -- you couldn't tell there was fog until you looked at the bridges.

As the weather's so dismal I'm going to work on my website today.

Yipes. I finally dredged my car's MoT (roadworthiness) certificate out of my "filing system" and found to my horror that it's 11 months out of date. In other words, if I'd had an accident -- or if I have one before I can get it renewed -- I'm not insured. Faaaaaaark. I'm almost too frightened to drive the car to the garage. I'll have to get on to them tomorrow. The car needs a new exhaust, lubrication, and I still think there's something wrong with the clutch. But apart from that it's ok. I think.

Nothing much to report. Work does take a big chunk out of the day, doesn't it? Bertie was a Bad Dog: dashed at two little girls, barking his head off. The worst part was that he was off the lead and I couldn't catch him -- he danced round in a big circle, yelling like a mad thing. Once I'd pounced on him I called the girls over and showed them that he was actually frightened of them (he cringed convincingly) and assured them he wasn't dangerous. But still. I'm going to try a water pistol, see if that helps. But if he's scared, maybe that would make him more scared ... I don't know.

Maybe I'll try food treats for not barking. He'll be huge but quiet.

Going home now. Housework on the agenda for tomorrow. My house is feeeeelthy.

Hurrah! I had a brainwave while in Callander and it's proved fruitful. I thought of seeing whether any of the great B&Bs I've stayed in before take dogs. And I've just checked on one I remembered the name of - the Blue Lobster at Glen Eynort on the Isle of Skye - and it does, "by arrangement". It's not a flash place but it's nice and relaxed.

Work has been ok tonight, though it's not wonderful to be back, I have to say.

I've decided to knuckle down and learn about CSS and XHTML. Rather than fiddle about on the computer -- which hasn't proved very productive so far; it's too easy to get distracted -- I've been sitting down with a stack of books and a notebook, just like school. And it's working! I'm getting a clearer idea of what I can achieve with style sheets and how to go about it. Another couple of sessions and I'll be ready to try it on the computer. One of the books has some CSS2 in it but I think a couple of the others might be a little out of date. I've also got a lot of scanning to do. Stand by for changes -- but don't hold your breath!

I'm back!

The weather was quite bad -- heavy rain, thunder etc -- and the B&B wasn't wonderful, but the sun shone enough in the right places to make it all enjoyable.

Bertie was baffled by all the new concepts. First of all the whole idea of going on holiday. Like, here we were sharing a tiny kennel -- tiny!! -- when we already have a huge many-roomed kennel. He seemed a little worried that this might be a permanent arrangement. There was barely room to swing a hedgehog, let along a large greyhound. At one point he'd finished eating at his bowls under the handbasin and found he couldn't turn round because I was standing next to the bed. So with a heavy sigh he hauled himself up on to the bed and took a shortcut.

Other problems with the B&B: it was cold and damp, the front door opened directly on to a busy main road, the room wasn't en suite. Moan, grizzle. I'm spoilt by having stayed in such top-notch B&Bs previously -- after you've been plied with tea and scones in front of a peat fire, nothing less will do.

Other concepts new to Bertie:

Cattle grids. The first one lulled him (and me) because it was covered by a disinfectant mat (for foot and mouth). The second one he found before I did, and ended up sprawled on the ground with badly bruised knuckles. Poor boy! He also had a scrape on one thigh and a cut, but it didn't faze him for long. And at the third cattle grid he waited for me to open the gate.

Steamboats: We took a cruise on the Sir Walter Scott, a little pleasure steamer on Loch Katrine. The sun shone, the hills were glorious. The boat was packed with sugared-up children who all fell in love with Bertie. He was trapped, so had to get over his fear of little people. As an experience it very nearly blew all his fuses, I think, and he nearly pulled me over getting down the gangplank when it was all over.


The Sir Walter Scott on Loch Katrine

Bats: What is that? A mouse? A bird? Just too weird.


More detail later. Right now I'm heading for a deep hot bath. Hard to believe it's July tomorrow...

Yesterday Anthea and I went to the Gullane Bents -- not a great walk for Bertie due to the extreme heat but nice for the rest of us. On the way home the brakes started playing up, making horrible graunching noises and not feeling entirely trustworthy, so this morning I phoned the garage and I'm taking the car in tomorrow for new pads. Again.

That meant I was without transport today, sigh, no big expeditions. It was boiling hot this morning, then it rained in the afternoon, which was very pleasant for those of us who were thinking "mmm, better water the garden today" and who could then feel non-guilty about lying on the sofa reading. (Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund, highly recommend it.)

After the rain stopped we went for another walk, again chummed round by Sandy & co. The rain had cooled things down & it was very still too. There were a lot of dinghies and yachts out, all gliding very, very slowly up and down the firth, especially those working against the tide.

For dinner I charred a couple of lamb chops on a disposable BBQ -- Bertie crunched up the bones.

It was nice sitting reading with the doors flung open, but unfortunately it upset Bertie. Every little noise from the neighbours (also enjoying the evening cool) had him springing up, barking and whining. I tried shutting him out of the living room, but of course that didn't work. In the end I had to shut the doors to calm him down. Grrr.

I phoned the B&B in Callender and they're getting back to me tomorrow. Wednesday and Thursday I thought. Maybe.

Another blissed-out day of holiday. Um, I mowed the lawns, front and back, after having breakfast outside (pretending it was sunny), which was after walking the dog. On the walk we met Sandy with his dogs Amber and Cassie, and the Italian Spinoza or whatever it is was also there. Shadow the other greyhound appeared but quickly disappeared when she saw the big gang of dogs -- she's shy in company. Sandy & co chummed us round the marina as well as round the field.

The rabbit was still there and still dead. Apparently.

After mowing the lawn I bundled the boy into the car and we went to Blackness via the garden centre. At Blackness we had a long long walk, along the coast path. Bertie sprained a leg doing a fancy turn at speed but it seemed to come right almost immediately despite a lot of screeching and limping initially.

Amusing conversation with elderly gent on bench at Blackness:

EG (pointing at Bertie): Defenestration?
Me: Pardon?
EG: Defenestration?
Me: I'm sorry?
EG (as if to a foreign slow learner): Is. He. Finished. Racing?

It was surreal -- for a minute I honestly thought he was asking if Bertie had been thrown out a window.

So then we came back and I cooked dinner and watered the container plants and potted up a little alpine thingummie with orange flowers and watched some TV and did some ironing.

I feel mildly embarrassed that I enjoyed today so much but I did, so there.

WARNING
This entry contains violence and animal cruelty issues. If you're a sensitive, animal lib vegetarian type person, look away now.

Bertie finally caught a rabbit.

He seemed surprised, after the initial excitement (growling, squealing, thrashing around, dying etc). He seemed particularly surprised that after the rabbit was dead, it kind of stayed dead. He poked it with his nose a few times and stood back all eager, as if waiting for it to start the game again. I waited for him to bring his prey to my feet in tribute, but he didn't. He got bored with it in about two minutes and that was that. I hope some lucky fox is feasting on it right now.

OK the veges can look back again.

I went sailing this afternoon, since it was sunny and there was a nice breeze. Oh, and it's the first day of summer. On the morning walk Bertie and I took a stroll along the marina pier and watched Ian, one of the instructors, teaching a kayak class. "Going for a sail?" he said, "Great day for it." So I did. I went home and got my wetsuit and dinghy boots and cagoule and gloves and went for a sail.

I made a mess of launching -- the wind was quite strong, an easterly, and before I could get the rudder down, I was blown on to the pier. It's a bugger getting out of this -- the sail is trapped flat against the jetty. One way is to raise the centreboard and capsize, then walk the boat out (thigh deep in sticky black mud) before relaunching. But happily the sea scouts were out and about, and their support boat towed me out of trouble.

The sail itself was fab, nice and bouncy and exciting. I just cruised up and down the river, getting very wet. Sailing in a wetsuit really makes a difference on the Forth, it's cold even now, and even on a sunny day like today. I "parked" without too much palaver -- it can be tricky coming in with a strong wind, you have to let the sails out enough so you don't come in too fast and crash onto the slipway, but not so much that you end up drifting into the pier. I managed not to do either. After I'd put the boat away, I went off to find someone to confess to -- I'd noticed that the sail was torn, where I'd hit the pier and the mast had dragged across it.

They were very nice about it, just said these things happen, we'll just get it mended.

What else? Not a lot. I've scanned a lot of photos, done the garden (but not the lawn), cleaned the house, been for a few more expeditions. I love being on holiday. I'm sooooooo relaxed. I might go away for a few days next week, if I can be bothered that is. I'm thinking of going to Callander, it's not far away and there are lots of forest walks etc for Bertie.

OK it's safe -- I'm in a better mood. Not quite refreshed and revitalised, but well on the way. I've been for healthful walks, done some gardening (read: weeding), found a fantastic garden centre (bought one micanopsis, himalayan poppy, blue) and bought some other plants at the Ingliston Market (nemesia, cornflowers and one sad little strawberry).

Here's some news: I'd sent off a cheque to a greyhound rescue organisation that offers to trace your dog's pedigree, and got a spiffy printout in return. Bertie's maternal grandfather, Polnoon Chief, came second in the Scottish Derby in 1991! Then he retired to stud and had over 480 kids, so Bertie's actually nothing special, if you do the arithmetic ...

If you're interested, you can see the pedigree here. It's quite a big scan, so only if you're really, really interested.

Slightly unnerving thing: I found a greyhound database site today where you could search on a dog's name. So I put in Hardtobehumble (aka Bertie) and there was a reference with a note: "Rescued greyhund now owned by Mrs Barbara Agnew of South Queensferry". So the rescue organisation had added Bertie to the database already ... fair enough, I guess. But still ...

No blog today, I'm in a very bad mood.

Tune in again when I'm on holiday.

Yet more sightseeing: this time we "did" part of the Old Town, including the High Kirk of St Giles, George IV Bridge and Greyfriars Kirkyard. When I peeled off, Faye was heading for the museum. Tomorrow she may go to the zoo -- I have stuff to do at home.


St Giles

Bertie is going to be devastated when Faye leaves, he is completely under her spell.

I forgot to tell about our adventures on Saturday, a day of heavy rain. I had a lunch date (a former workmate back in town briefly), so Faye went round Edinburgh Castle while I sipped Pims, ate a delicious lunch and chatted. Afterwards I picked her up -- she didn't get too drenched -- and we headed off to Dunfermline to track down an ancestral home, stopping off to dress more sensibly and collect Bertie.

For the record: It is called Bamboo Cottage -- there's now a plaque saying so. (Faye took pictures, but they may be a little blurred on account of the heavy rain. I stayed in the car.) It isn't where Grandad Dick was married; according to the certificate, that was in Coatbridge.

After that soggy experience we forayed further into Fife, north to Dollar. We had a pleasant if damp walk up Dollar Glen, a picturesque spot.


On the way back to the car, Bertie defied my call to stop and jumped through the fence to the carpark and the road. Bad Dog! I yelled and bellowed for him to come, and he did -- at top speed. He raced right past me and screeched to a halt next to Faye. Who wasn't yelling and bellowing. OK, I get the message.

Sorry about the glitch down there ... I don't know how to get rid of it.

More sightseeing today: a walk on Holyrood Park

We walked back along the Radical Road, where the slope meets the cliffs. The sight of Bertie tripping happily along the very edge of the precipice gave Faye vertigo. It looks much steeper from up there.

The weather was better today, hot and sunny, but we seemed to spend most of it stuck in traffic. We also popped in to see Anthea. She put her cat, Jessie, outside so Bertie could roam around. When it came time to leave we found him in the bedroom, having an intense staring contest with Jessie through the window. Both were stock still, Jessie with her fur fluffed to absolute maximum.

Needless to say, Bertie lost. Cats can stare anyone out.

For anyone trying to give up smoking:

I think my bad streak may be over. I took the car in to the garage today and the chap there fixed a few little things -- the squeaks, the sticky gear shift, the choked water filter -- and charged me £15. He sent me round to a place round the corner to have them look at the exhaust, they phoned him with their price and I went back to get his price -- £50. The blokes around the corner said my brake discs were nearly shot, but my garage bloke said, nah, they'll be all right. So when I go back next month for the MOT (annual warrant of fitness), he'll get the exhaust done.

While he was tinkering with the car, Faye and I went to the Botanical Gardens for a walk. Very lovely in there, as usual. The rhododendrons are out and the azealeas, but the borders haven't really got under way yet. Then we whizzed back home in my newly smoove car, stopping off for lunch in a cafe overlooking the firth. We squeezed in a Bertie walk before I had to fly off to work. Faye is crashing out tonight, she's still pretty exhausted after her traumatic journey north. She's going to offload some luggage at my place (the joys of vast storage space!) so the trip back to England shouldn't be so bad.

Election night went reasonably smoothly at work. The foreign pages were a little bit more work than expected because there were late-breaking developments on a couple of stories, but nothing too challenging. I stayed until about 2:15am, by when the election outcome was pretty clear. I would have stayed longer but I knew I had to get up early this morning.

New computer, new computer, new computer!

Of course it didn't go that smoothly, installing a new computer never does. But just minor ruffles -- the new box doesn't power the monitor and I discovered my monitor's power cord had an American plug on it; and my printer didn't come with a USB cord. I whizzed in to the shop and got a USB hub while I was at it, and some CD-ROM disks. Finally got it all humming and celebrated by taking Bertie to Blackness for a run.

Blackness Castle

USB totally rules! How wonderful to plug in a printer and have a message pop up saying, hmm, I see you have an HP DeskJet, let me see what I can do...

The scanner arrived today and it's fab too, so tiny and thin and delicate. Again, installing with USB was a breeze.

Updates on the website will be a while yet though, because I'm too busy for that. Today was a bit mental -- I started out having no spare time at all and ended up with heaps. It started last night when sister Faye phoned to say she'd be arriving today. Yikes! So this morning I phoned the garage and said I'd bring the car in tomorrow instead of this morning. Then Faye phoned to say she'd missed her train due to nightmare delays on the Tube. Phoned the garage to change my mind again, but it was too late -- they'd already taken on another job. Then my boss phoned to say I didn't need to come in early after all!

So I had plenty of time to clean the clarty house fairly thoroughly, walk the dog, go to the supermarket, walk the dog and vote. And clean the house again, because it rained during our second walk and Bertie spackled the floor with muddy pawprints.

I went to the new Tesco that opened this week. I felt guilty about taking the car -- it's only a longish walk away -- but I had to get in supplies so Faye will have something to eat while I'm at work. Anyway it was all shiny and new -- but otherwise almost exactly the same as the 24-hr Tesco in town. And horribly crowded, full of people dithering around blocking the aisles with their trollies.

I've been told about a wonderful event that might change my shopping habits: a farmers' market on the first and third Saturday of the month, in the middle of Edinburgh. Martin and Heather who invited me to dinner last week had just been there and come back with some fantastic veg, cheese and other produce. I'm going to check it out next week.

I'm off to join the throng at the office TV watching the election results.

New computer, new computer, new computer! It's in the boot of my car at the moment. The scanner is due to arrive on or around Friday. This morning I hurriedly backed up what few new files there are on my clapped-out old pile of junk, and it ceremoniously crashed as I was shutting it down. See if I care.

I'm not going to sit up all night playing with the new stuff. I'm going to walk the dog when I get home (1.30am) and get a good night's sleep, then spend tomorrow playing with it. I should also clean the house, because it's an even bigger tip than normal. Ah, I love days off.

We had a troubled night last night at Salty Towers. Bertie caught a hedgehog on the front lawn after our late-night walk and gave it a good seeing-to before it managed to escape (it was still on its feet, but there was a chunk of hedgehog skin on the lawn this morning, complete with prickles). It took him a while to settle down, after I'd pulled all the hedgehog prickles out of his face and legs. Then he seemed to be suddenly freaked out by the noise from the bridge roadworks (it's been going on every night for a week or so), kept whining and barking and running round. Finally I moved his bedding into my room. He seemed surprised to find himself in there this morning, and later made a huge fuss when he went upstairs and I hadn't moved it back to its proper place.

Faye is coming! Her job -- she has a choice of three so far -- won't start until next Friday at the earliest, so she's coming up to Scotland for a visit. She's missing her dog Ruby, so she's looking forward to spending quality time with Bertie, who will love her to pieces. I'm looking forward to it too, it'll be fun showing her the sights.

The thing about knowing your karma is septic is that you don't then get all worked up when plans gang agley.

Like today, I just knew my computer wouldn't be ready -- so when I phoned the shop and they said no, I wasn't all bent out of shape. Not even when they told me my modem and scsi card aren't PCI and the new motherboard only has PCI slots. The poor young man who answered the phone was all ready to put in a non-PCI motherboard to accommodate the old cards, but after I yelled at him a bit he went and got someone with better english who agreed that yes, it was probably worth spending a bit more on a new modem & scanner than being stuck with a ye-olde motherboard.

So he's putting in a PCI modem and I'm getting a USB scanner. Ordered it tonight, via the internet. How very modern. It's a Canon CanoScan, a thin little thing that got very good reviews on jungle.com. And my computer will be ready tomorrow. Which is just as well because I hadn't backed up any of my files on the old machine. And now I'll be able to put the scsi card & modem back in it, and maybe one day get it a monitor and keyboard and mouse and network it. Or something.

I've set myself up for some more grief by booking my car in for a service. It squeaks like a cage full of budgies and the gearbox is "sticky". I hope it just needs a grease and some clutch fluid rather than a new clutch plate. I cannily booked it in for Thursday, well after the full moon.

I nearly had two traffic accidents today -- one when another driver ran a red light, another when an elderly ditherer tried to change lanes right into me. Tomorrow being full moon day I'm seriously considering taking the bus. That way even if I do have the accident I'm karmically unable to avoid, my car will be ok.

I got some perfume today with the Boots voucher, Ralph by Ralph Lauren. I was going to give you a link, but it's apparently too new for the internet. It's light, summery, floral. Almost like talc. My last perfume was Mitsouko by Guerlain, but my favourite is Eau Par Kenzo. Boots didn't have either of those. I chose the Mitsouko after a long session of sniffing samples at John Lewis. It's gorgeously rich, heavy but not toooo heavy, very feminine, soft and warm. And then a friend came to stay and was horrified, because it's her scent, her signature scent, she doesn't know anyone else who wears it. I felt quite guilty -- thought I do remember the saleswoman telling me, "No-one else in the room will be wearing this, it's very unusual." So I understood my friend's hurt feelings. I feel a little like that with Eau Par Kenzo, too -- I don't know anyone else who wears it. It's mine.