Christmas Shopping

The hot summer has obviously been good for the glove tree.

selfie up a tree

in two halves (don't know how to work the self-timer)

Only kidding. Not Christmas Shopping at all. The other day, a woman at the tills in Tesco asked me if I'd started my Christmas Shopping yet. I was torn between my desire to get on, irritation with the question and my sense of humanity. Here was someone reaching out, trying to connect...with the wrong person. That question holds so many assumptions. I could have told her that I was done with Christmas shopping some years ago. (Although, mum, if you're reading this, that doesn't mean I don't want anything!) I could have told her to just concentrate on scanning the things through because I was starving and I wanted to get home...But my sense of common humanity demanded that I smile and simper some lie or other. "Yes, no, whatever, give me my fecking things..."

Princes Street would have been like a rugby scrum today. Did I ever mention that I was the best in my class at British Bulldogs in primary school, by some way? I was unstoppable and unliftable. I was quite short which I think helped. And I wasn't THAT heavy. I think it was my attitude really. If I'm ever out on a group outing because I have dementia and they take us to Princes Street for the day I bet my old British Bulldogs training will kick in and I'll fire into the midst of the crowd and pick people up one by one until they are all out and I am the last man standing.

Anyway, PB is off down to Wales for "The Masters". In fact it has already happened because he phoned and left a message to say he wasn't last. He sounded quite thrilled. I decided to get the forecast wild west wind on side and take a train to Preston Pans and then be blown down the coast to North Berwick. It was a good plan, pretty much. I was going fairly well while not making much effort which is about ideal. Running along and down from PP station to the front at Seton Sands I was captivated by the sheer quantity and quality of garden things people have. But it seemed too early to start faffing around with the camera. When I got to Seton Sands, though, I was hot, so I stopped to take my gloves and buff off and  tie my hair back so it would stop tickling my face. While stopped, using someone's garden wall as a table, I noticed more garden things. Since I was stopped anyway it seemed churlish not to take a photo or two. I was just reflecting that I lack some of the necessary aggression to be a truly great journalist - I'm too easily embarrassed - when a woman came out of the house in her dressing gown and sleepily lit up a fag. I felt I had to explain why I was leaning over her wall taking photos of her garden ornaments. "I was just taking a photo because I like your snails!" I offered. "Wha ?" she retorted. Then I remembered I was a runner and just ran off.

The kite surfers were out in force, also enjoying the warm west wind. I failed to do them much justice but you try taking photos on the zoom lense in a strong wind. It wasn't easy.

I missed off the Aberlady Bay bit because I was starving, and instead went straight to Gullane. I was just shy of 11 miles and richly deserved an iced cinnamon bun and a cup of coffee out of Falkos. Then I headed down to the beach. It was a relief to get right down to the beach. The tide was in and was playing games with me. It was making me dodge from side to side which was hurting my tiring legs. "Piss off sea" I told it. It seemed to retreat for a while and then came right for my shoes. "You piss off!" it spat at me. I had to do a big sideways leap which hurt my shoogly left knee. I think I'm going to ease up on the Ashtanga yoga, - it's hurting all the old problems in my left leg. My many times sprained ankle, my bashed left knee and my grouchy left hip. The whole system kind of works as long as I don't push my luck. As long as my left foot is allowed to point out a bit further than the other one....They're all hurting today after them HONESTLY trying to get me to hang my left leg over my shoulder on Thurday.  Err...no thanks.

So anyway, I was soon at North Berwick and then on the train and then home and once home I had some chicken and peanut soup with some of last night's left-over rice in it. Delicious.

I have an essay to start which I am avoiding. Better go! Goodbye.