Roastit pineapple

1. Up early, then back to bed to be up really late. I spend some time with Sherlock and drift in and out of sleep. A perfect start to a Saturday.

2. We take a bone-shuddering bus journey to the East end. We're checking out a record shop and another potential neighbourhood and yes, it's nice (though the shop was shut). I spot a couple of places that I think might suit me. Onwards we stop in via a big new supermarket with the fanciest fruit and veg section I have ever seen. Stocked up with inexpensive supper supplies and a bag of sausages to munch on, we walk through the Barras and to Monorail for a mooch round the records. Max Richter, Ray Charles and a risky Columbian accordionist.

3. On the hunt for a decent afternoon pint, we leave Mono (full of high pitched squeeky babies), to Babbity Bowsers (full of low pitched squeeky fiddlers) to the Tron (full of mid pitched celtic connectors of some kind) and finally back to Mono.

4. A superb dinner - spicy meatballs, pitta and cucumber dressing, followed later by this - roasted pineapple.

5. The risk taken with the Columbian accordionist pays off. Big time. What with Mr Ray Charles, there's a real Saturday night soundtrack round our place.