Odd One Out

It was a particularly cheerless day to drive north for a long outstanding meal with Jim, one half of a couple we used to run and cycle with. His wife died 4 years ago while cycling in Cuba, and I miss her so much.
She was an inspirational lady, a perfect headmaster's wife, sociable, lively and resolute. She was the first woman to complete seven Marathons on the seven continents, but also cycled and hill walked.

We met up today as a threesome at Heathery Ford, a delightful country restaurant in between Edinburgh and Perth, a half way house for us both.

Being the only female in the company of two men means that conversation takes on a whole new dimension. Had Jean been there, the men would have discussed, and we would have blethered, but blethering is not possible with two men.
The latter of a certain age are in general not particularly interested in other people's lives while women are, and so the exchange of family news felt more like the Spanish Inquisition with me as supreme inquisitor.

The last time I was here I walked rather gingerly across this wooden bridge in the grounds, but now it is roped off and collapsed in the middle. I hope it gets fixed.