What's for Lunch?

This charming fellow joined daughter # 1 and me for an early coffee this morning in Peter's Yard.
It seemed entirely appropriate for him to sit somewhere where he might have a diet of passing school children and the odd pigeon. His benevolent twinkle belies his carnivorous intent. I kept clear, even though I neither pass for a school pupil or a pigeon.

With the day's drizzle and mist hanging so low over the city that Arthur's Seat had ceased to exist, we were invited out of town by cycling friends to be a couple who lunch.

Expecting a light lunch, we were treated instead to a veritable feast, preceded by G&T's consisting of equal measures, and with the meal laced with innumerable glasses of wine. His Lordship looked like a man whose Christmases had all come at once.

What an excellent way to spend a Friday afternoon: almost makes it worthwhile qualifying for a bus pass. Thank you to the two N's for lunch, and a carryout of a month's supply of pancakes.

Home to an Edinburgh appearing again from under the mist, and vowing to never eat again.