Best to just keep the heid. Stay in the centre.
Then on the Thursday Nicola broke the news that we could now see someone outside our household. We made plans to meet up with Nick. It was a worry. What would he even be like? How many cans of beer had he sunk since we'd last seen him? He turned out to be fine. A little pale, but otherwise fine. By this time Peter and I were just talking to each other in grunts. Familiarity and all that. Not nice for company though. Fortunately Nick had been living with his elderly parents and all their shenanigans so he took me and Peter in stride.
On an earlier run I had spotted that a coffee and scone outlet had opened itself up for take-away on Rose Street, so I got the team to go there. I think it was the Rose Street theatre. There was quite a long wait as the (extremely pleasant) woman who served us went off to watch her favourite telly program or something while we were waiting. She was gone so long there was a 2m distanced queue behind us about the entire length of Rose Street. Maybe that was acceptable in this Brave new World of the New Normal. I wasn't sure. The sun was shining anyway. The scones were huge and pretty good but my coffee was a bit weak which is a cardinal sin.
Then somehow or other we ended up back up at Arthur's Seat looking for butterflies. I started wanting my tennis racket again.
The next day I took to the empty streets tout seul again. It was hot so I stuck to the shadow side of the street too.
I ran up and over from the far end of St John's Road via Clermiston because why not.
This was the view from my last place of work which I've not seen since the day we left in April 2018. It holds a special place for me because I had endured 4 years of job uncertainty and then in 2014 I got a job here with a really lovely team. I have never been so grateful for a job or for colleagues.
Anyway, things are alright now but the Clermiston Clinic was a god send. Even if outwardly it was crap and really just a couple of caravans with a concrete bit. It's not looking so good now.
And back via Queensferry Road. The roads were busying up but not yet truly busy and you could get a sense of how it must have used to be approaching the city centre on wide roads with long vistas to the castle and Arthur's Seat - and all the huge and elaborate school buildings.
Back at home. I've been working half of my working week from home which means a lot of time while I'm on the telephone staring out the window to the roofs opposite. Gull shenanigans.
another day, more empty streets
bustling crowds at middle meadow walk
Mary Hunter's castle
My street
My moon
My sunset
My gull
My church steeple
my moon
close up
Another weekend. Fun. We get better coffee nearer to home, and cake this time. The sun was shining. Peter, Nick and I laugh and a Leith gadgy who is in the paras - no not the military force ( as someone once explained to me in the street ) - the paranoias - thinks we're laughing at him and remonstrates with us from a distance. He tells some guy who has two dogs on a stretchy lead - who comes over to tell us. He's not telling us off or anything, he's just passing the time of day. We're sitting on a wall eating cake and one of his dogs unleashes a long, yellow and probably stinky piss. I'm not sure if it's stinky because I don't breathe in. It doesn't improve the cake. This is what happens if you sit down in Leith.
Peter's photos.
Peter's photo.
We run out west this time, out St Johns Road, and then up and over Corstorphine Hill, pausing for a little while to see if we can see any zoo animals.
Finally in the week the endless good weather breaks and there is a rainy day. I ran around in the rain, even daring to go past Arthur's Seat as the rain scared the people away. I can't help feeling I've been flushed out of my usual habitat and that I should be protected in some way. The National Trust should do something.
I had a nice run in Granton today. The weather was better than forecast.
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