Diary of an Edinburgher

By LadyMarchmont

Graves again - is this a series?

Not too many (new) aches and pains due to the gym activity yesterday. I knew that not trying too hard would pay off. Still can’t believe my local gym plays classical music quietly in the mornings!! This is like a dream come true…

Or… Was it was a dream? I’ll check it out tomorrow again, but my man Gordon is not there every morning. I must commit to memory his days. They will be my days too.

Watched another 5 episodes of Breaking Bad last night. They’re so addictive. Each episode ends on a cliff hanger. Sometimes, the action, and the acting, is SO excruciatingly compulsive - I can’t think of any other film or series that grips you like that. Only another 50 or so episodes to go!

My pal S came round this morning to see the Africa photos. She used to live in Tanzania and her dad helped build the railways, so she was all nostalgic about the red red earth and the mountains. She remembers, in the 50s, seeing wild animals (zebras and giraffes etc) everywhere in those days. So sad Absolutely criminal that in a few decades, elephants and rhinos will be wiped out. For ornaments and aphrodisiacs for humans.

I ordered some more firewood, and tidied up the lounge and sorted out all the paperwork that’s been sitting on the table for weeks carried all the paperwork from the coffee table into the back room and put it down, to be sorted later, then I popped down to my favourite graveyard (is this a series? or a mood?). It was a driech cold morning, so I didn’t want to go far. I had a fiddle with ‘bleach bypass’ a favourite filter of Chameleo.

JR brought home a ‘letter cage’ last night. Yes, it’s a cage to catch letters. A lot of huffing and puffing later - because I couldn’t be bothered getting the drill out to make some screw holes - and it’s in place. Sometimes the door sticks if there’s a lot of junk mail, so this will solve the problem. With the added bonus that I won’t need to bend down to pick it up!

I think The Good Wife, the sofa, a bag of crisps and my faux-leopardskin throw are calling me this afternoon.

I am not addicted to Netflix.
I am not addicted to Netflix.
I am not addicted to Netflix.

But I think I could become addicted to custard filled doughnuts.

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