Lost shoe

I accept that it's odd to choose a lost shoe, that someone has decided to hang from the hole in the fence around a building site, over a little boat floating gently on a glass-smooth river lit by the orange glow of the morning sun. But there you go. I can't explain.

I found the shoe on Dewar Place on the boards surrounding what I'm sure must be one of Edinburgh's longest established gap sites. At least in the 15 years or so that I've worked in Edinburgh I can't remember anything in that site. Anyway, I was on my way to Thomsons for a (yes, I succumbed) pint and one their enormous pies, in the company of a horde of blippers, many of whom I'd not met before, who were gathering to say hello to Bighill from across the pond. Lovely lunchtime meet-up.

On the way back to the office I was drawn by siren calls into Jacobs where they gave me a Lensbaby to play with in return for a swipe of my card. Bargain. That'll be only part paid for by the sale of my old 400D. If you've got one and think it might fund a trade up, look away now. I was selling to my stepson, basing the price on prices currently being charged by Ffordes minus their commission. The going rate for a 400D body? £29. Yes, twenty nine. The kit 18-55mm lens? £59. The spare batteries, remote release, old 80-200mm lens: £39. Ouch.