There are No Pockets in a Shroud

Some Edinburgh resident was important enough to have this mausoleum built for his mortal remains in Greyfriar’s Kirkyard. Rather different to having him fertilise the gardens at the crematorium.
It was the door that caught my eye at first as I mingled with tourists swarming between the grave stones and adding sticks to Greyfiar’s Bobby’s tombstone. They do it rather like adding stones to a cairn at the top of a mountain.

I was passing to get to the Library and to see why notices said The Mound was closed to traffic. Maybe it had been, but whoever was responsible for putting out the roadside notices had failed to recall them once the road was opened again. Fake news, nothing to see.

The day had been quiet and relaxing until an email from the lawyer popped into my post box at 4:30pm and upset my equilibrium. Money, money money, figures, figures ,figures and my trying to understand the niceties of trust taxation at levels hard to believe. I think there may have to be a strong G&T for me tonight.