Dynamite with a LazieBeam...

I dragged himself out of bed reasonably early this morning, to make up for not having got over to the Burgh last week to help my baba move flats. 

We filled the car with petrol, filled ourselves with coffee and drove over post haste. 

We found parking pretty damn quickly (for me driving), and spotted my Tooliebelle watching out the window for us. 

Aw. tis a lovely flat. Not a student flat, but a "young professional flat".  Nae pizza boxes and empty bottles of Jack laying on the floor.   Set back off a busy road, with a walkway up to the front door past a wrought iron gate, a buzz of the buzzer and we were in.  

Her room is lovely - front facing lovely people watching place.  Clean, prettily painted bathroom - beautifully clean kitchen...  I was pleased.   I was also pleased that her room was reasonably tidy and organised, and even more please that she emptied more drawers of "unnecessaries and we were able to take more away. 

We then headed up town for lunch, and a bit of culture.    

Culture, I tell you... culture.  Holyrood Palace, eh, there's a place.  My goodness the stuff inside.  beautiful, and those wardens.. Some of them are more knowledgeable than the others - but hey, Tooli knows her stuff about Mary Queen of Scots..

There is a lovely exhibition of some of the Queens Dresses. Very beautiful.  Also a dress of Queen Victoria, my but she was a petite, wee thing. 

We wandered the ruins of the Abbey, and then strolled thru the gardens where only a three... four?  years ago, Tooli collected her Duke of Edinburgh Gold award.     Then we found the Fam Pav. "Family Pavillion".  Tooli had been desperate to get there, and I understand why.....

Look at us!  How beautiful are we?   Fancy dress clothes a plenty for "Garden Party" there.  Tooli, is a Butterfly, I am a LayDee.  

I only have four extra pictures remaining.... I had to include me in the Carriage....   Himself, was well impressed with us, and almost RAN back into the palace, strenuously denying all knowledge of the two weeping with laughter heaps in the marquee.