Another Glasgow Variation

Buried deep in the Scottish Presbyterian psyche is the knowledge that for all good things, there has to be atonement.
Thus, several good days of dry weather and some sun mean that there was a price to be paid, and this was pay day.

The same phenomenon manifests itself when there is a long downhill on the bike.
The pleasure is somewhat mitigated by wondering what dire uphill is in the offing.

With his Lordship immune to rain and away on the hills with his pals, I left Edinburgh by bus in a dismal day and reached Glasgow with the full complement of heavy rain and puddled pavements, where an unwary step was akin to paddling in the sea.

My foray was to hand over a jersey which I had knitted with my own variations on a theme, to Glasgow daughter.
I was extremely anxious that the size ( age 12 and she is 20 years older) would not fit. But lo and behold it was perfect, though I say it myself, and probably shouldn't.

I can vaguely remember when I was her age, I could fit child's age 12-14 clothing. Now alas, it's more like age 96.

After a coffee and a chat, she had to get back to work and I had to get the bus back to wet Edinburgh.

And so a successful mission.

Whilst forgetting to look at the name of the unfortunate guano covered horseman in Glasgow's George Square, I have it on good authority from the newly returned drookit Lord, that he is in fact Prince Albert. Should this not be the case, I apologise on his behalf.