After a quick Ashes catch on Channel 5, there was nothing else quick about the morning. 

Washing done / out, Lidl for smoked salmon (it's on offer this weekend, so armed with an avocado and some eggs, I did what Amelia described on Friday in her show as poncy fuckboy brunch. Tasty, mind.

Eventually I got out to meet lapsed blipper Neil(Johnsonphotography at Bloc (40 Ferry Rd, here for details ) where I have a piece in their opening 2020 Vision exhibition. Neil and his college chum have been talking about doing an exhibition for a while now (he wants to do another for his superb Suburbia collection) and his mate has some bleak but brilliant Iranian landscapes. Not sure how they'll fit with my bleak Granton landscapes, but hey - after a swifty in the Oceania with the accompanying fitba and old men tutting at rubbish refereeing decisions, we agreed on a plan. More details once we have a date (but prob late Oct, early Nov)
To town! I hung about with Paul for a bit; she eventually got rid of G and we went for a mooch about at Bristo Square - the only time of year when you can sit with a stash of cans and not get moved along. So we watched, accumulated flyers and chatted to various performers and one of her lad's exs. And eventually scored free tickets for Andrew Maxwell at the Udderbelly. We sheltered from the storm under a brolley, jackets across laps as everyone else fled for cover; stuck in our own little world of drinks and nibbles; it was fun.

Briefly home to drop stuff and out for the show at 1930; an hour of engaging banter later we came back for moussaka and I was away at 10; last descent on the e bike. It's really slow going down the hills; which is probably best after 3 cans of cheap Aldi lager. (Rhinebacher, 72p; the one thing I took from his show)