St Andrew Square

Remind me never to buy shoes on the internet. It's a recipe for disaster.

I found these nice looking leather boots from Fly London reduced to half price and before I knew it my hovering finger had pressed the buy button.
All week I've waited with anticipation for the arrival of these boots, and finally I got them yesterday.
They looked lovely, each encased in its little polythene bag, snuggled in tissue paper and beautifully presented in a colourful box.

The moment of adoration was snuffed out when I tried to get my dainty size 4 foot into one of them. I felt like one of the ugly sisters in Cinderella, because try as I might, it would not go: the foot opening was not wide enough.

I wrapped them up again and took them back to the terrestrial store belonging to the internet one and told the kindly assistant that I was returning them because my feet were too fat. " Not too fat" she said, "you have too high an instep".
I very nearly kissed her. How's that for good customer relations? ( Not the kissing!)

While down in Princes Street, His Lordship and I were confronted with traffic mayhem as the bad and the ugly seem to be mending the tarmac around the tram lines for the non existent trams. Or they could be removing the tram lines, which might be a better idea.
It could be funny if it weren't so pathetic.

We sat for a while in St Andrew Square with coffees and watched the world go by.
The infinity pond seemed to be a magnet for the kids. The bigger ones, as in the blip, ran round the edge while the toddlers were happy to splash their hands at the edge.

Home to sit outside for lunch in the sun, albeit with jackets on.
The long days of rain are fast becoming a distant memory.