Gorgeous day today. Just baby and I pootering about Lanark. She wheedled with skill and liberated enough money from my purse to buy a little ladybird bag and sparkly red gloves.
We sat in Bar Salato and munched our way through Elaine’s ‘specials’…with side serving of chocolate gateaux and cream.
And then, at 2pm, I waited on baby whilst she had her hair ‘styled’ and I was lulled into such a wonderfully mindless catatonia by the hiss of the hair dryers in Benson’s – barely able to rise from the monstrously comfortable squishy leather sofa.
We are home now and wait on Meg coming for dinner. Nowt special. Just a takeaway.
The boys will be trundling homeward after their thrashing at the hands of the Ibrox mob.
I’ve made calls to some friends and stage-managed my leisure-time for the next fort-night. I even called my mad ex-navy now Crown Office lawyer pal and sorted that meal we’ve been talking about for so long now.
So, this is the little lull before the house fills with noise. The pause. The hiatus which would normally fill with the clamour of internal thoughts and frettings – but which I am avoiding by typing this blog. I am not keen to examine anything too closely – I think I’ll live on the surface of things for a wee while at least.
Today was a good start.
Impaled on the thistle 