neither the fruiterer nor the florist

I was mildly concerned that Mr David might have cancelled the arranged lunch/lunchwalk with TFP and me today given the inclemency of the weather and the previously reported inability of his umbrella to stop the heavier downpours such as that which struck when he popped out for a lunchtime wander last year and had to get the bus home. Fortunately the rain level never advanced above mizzling, meaning that after a lunch-chat we were able to trundle up to the corners of Albany and Dublin streets for him to do a Window-on-the-Past thing with an old fambly postcard, unfortunately requiring him to stand in the middle of an intersection luckily slightly deadened by the dead-endedness of the south end of Dublin Street and thus meaning that he and his assistant were slightly less at risk of being run over or irritating the passing traffic too much, though several traffic-items passed quite close past them without their seeming to bat any of their eight eyelids, not even the four generally considered battable. After a mere five minutes' mild peril he was satisfied with the result, meaning we could go for a coffee in the place I was aiming for last week before we were diverted somewhere with more juice and cakes.

Afternoons back at work after these sorts of thing always drag a bit, so I cut mine fairly short to get back to leave plenty of time to move things out of the way of tomorrow's expected furniture-deliveries.