On the bus

It was a long day. In the morning I went into the Edinburgh office and then on to Neville's funeral at Mortonhall. I only met him a couple of times, but I feel so for Elaine who was married to him for 53 years. He was such an interesting and amiable man.

Then after some office stuff in the afternoon I tried to find a bus back home. I got a number 22 - it took quite a while through all the ghastly gridlocks, but it was excellent to meet up with Scobes. If one has to be delayed on a bus, who better to blether with? (Or whom to blip?)

Mr Scobes was unfortunately detained with the Scouts, as it were, but happily I was able to meet up with DH and young Left Hand, Right Hand in The Pub. For Beer! Hurray!