Meadowbank Velodrome
Another day that was fizzling out.
From the office, Weird Al appeared. Actually, I may have to start calling him Unlucky Al. He usually works from home, in the heart of West West Lothian. But today our servers were being sticky and after 2 hours of intermittent access, finally things came to head and stopped working altogether.
So he gritted his teeth, boarded a train, and no sooner than his foot hit the platform at Waverley, he got a text to tell him that the systems were back up and running....
Anyway, he messaged me all excited at lunchtime - the new carrier was launched 18 minutes ago at Rosyth; could we go up Calton Hill at lunchtime and get a look? I said yes, and off we trotted. He had the live stream in one hand and binoculars in the other.
After half an hour, it became clear we were seeing nothing. I got my phone out and with malice at all told him that the ship was scheduled to go under the bridges at 1130pm.....
Off we trudged, disconsolate. (Well, he was)
An afternoon of office, then up Arthur's Seat but with no gusto. All fatigue and no flair.
They're digging up the junction at the far side of Meadowbank, so I chummed Baz to the bus stop; we sat and chewed the final bits of fat as we waited for his number 5 to take him home. And then - through the gap between the office blocks - there - at the velodrome - a new Cigs! Oh joy! Fatigue and apathy were shed in an instant, the big lens affixed and snap! snap! snap!. Baz got his bus and I went around Smokey Brae and into the car park for a closer look. Black and white and fresh fresh fresh. (I would say wet wet wet but my indifference to Marti Pellow and his gang permits me to do so)
OK so I was still too tired to post it last night, but... a new new one. Dated sometime in the past week. Happy days.
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