Wet,Wet,Wet

Winter seems to have returned for the weekend and it was a cold wet walk to our Sunday watering hole for the obligatory toast and marmalade.
You may wonder why we do this when we could obviously have toast and marmalade at home. We wonder too, especially on mornings like this, but then there's a kind of masochism involved which we rather enjoy and which make the appreciation of a return to a warm house so much more intense.

The good Edinburgh burghers are slow to venture forth this morning, trudging through the Meadows in dribs and drabs under assorted umbrellas with hoods up again the chill.