Flats and bats

Had an impromptu bar supper with a pal following a shifty round a potential house-purchase in leafy Colinton. I tried hard to convince her to buy, mainly because it would be near me, rather than on the merits of the house itself. Then it was along by the water with the dugs.

We got lost in the darkening depths of Colinton Dell and it was quite a relief to find ourselves in the relatively safe grounds of Merchiston school. Only the scores of bats flying around our heads made it feel as if we were in an episode of Scooby Doo.

Home now and watching yet another conspiracy theory programme about 9/11. All very odd.