Had to go into town for a meeting of “Cinemas for All,” a support group for local cinemas under the auspices of the British Film Institute. An enthusiastic young lady was there who has the job of encouraging new cinemas while they try to establish themselves. There are fifty registered cinemas in Scotland, all of whom were invited, and an estimated 250 unregistered ones out there who don’t know what they are missing. BFI is very supportive and it is through them that we are applying for a new projector. In spite of that, only three of us turned up – plus the enthusiast and a volunteer who’s trying to co-ordinate the group. However, I did find it helpful even though, at the ripe old age of eight and a half, we’re not really the target audience
 
On the way in, I took a few pictures of Wojtek’s statue but decided that I will be able to do him better justice on a nice summer’s evening; so while he waits in the wings, you’ll have to put up with a picture of Mbra Castle. I spent some time cloning out the carbuncle which is the pavilion featured in the Hogmanay celebrations, and a stray birch tree that looks lonely and out of place.
 
After the meeting I had a long walk to the nearest whole food shop to restock Mrs TD’s supply of coffee substitute as it seems that too much caffeine disagrees with her; then on across The Meadows for lunch at the Pavilion and a bus home. Our buses from the west side of Mbra have long since been a discontinued line, rather like the unicorn. Lunch was sort of interesting consisting of (almost) hot coffee and soup; I’m not quite sure what happened to the concept of serving hot refreshments, they seem to have gone out of fashion. The soup was a serious emotional shock to me being a blood red colour; however, once I was used to the idea, it was quite nice – just slightly disturbing.
 
Then it was time to get really annoyed with Lothian Transport, the first homeward bound bus was full, so I looked at the timetable to see when the next was due. A helpful map showed that the route of the number 37 splits into three, only one of which suits my purpose; the timetable gives no indication of which bus goes where. I solved the problem by catching a 47 and getting off it at a point where only the 37s that pass our front door run, which are by then empty. I hate buses; particularly the noisy, smelly, rattly ones that give me migraines.

I've replaced the picture having reviewed it on my good monitor and removed the sharpening.