Walking, Talking and... Stalking?

At last! Some grey skies and a cold wind, so that I don't feel quite so guilty about the bad weather in Edinburgh that Trisha is having, while we bask in the sun here.

Despite being stuffed still very tired from yesterday's exertions, I found myself at the Man-in-the Red-Suit-café at 8.30am. Just on the off-chance that Red-Suited man was a creature of habit... (Is this stalking?)

I had to sneak out of the house without Henry spying me putting my shoes and jacket on, but he was quite happy snoozing on the bed, and I explained that we'd go for our promenade after my little mission, which indeed we did.

Well, Red-Suited Man did not appear, but I did have a chat to the café owner. Apparently he comes in two or three times a week, and has an array of eye-catching get-ups. He has a pink suit, a full Indian head-dress, and a diamante top that sparkles so that nobody can look at him when the sun's out. He doesn't wear them all at once, but obviously spends more time than most chosing what to wear before he goes out.

His name's James, and he wasn't the old rock star in a former life that I had fondly imagined, but a double glazing salesman. The café owner loves seeing the reaction of his customers when James comes in. I MUST try and see him again. (IS this stalking?)I would LOVE to take a photo, but I might chicken out. Pity that this cafe is closing for four days. Where will Red-Suited Man go then?

Café man recommended a café in Brighton that James frequents, NOT that that's why we went- his other two recommendations we'd already been to, thanks to Trisha. It does good coffee, so we checked it out this afternoon. Whacky! Crazy! Excellent 'Kiwi Style' flat whites.

We had a marvellous lunch at a wee place that you helped yourself to dozens of wonderful salads or hot meals. And then you could go and get another plateful! It was just great. AND no muzak! This is definitely my idea of heaven.

We had a walk round the Brighton Laines, but it was so cold, we went into the Museum to warm up and get out of the wind to get some culture. They have a brilliant collection of wonderful ceramics.

The Pavilion didn't look too good against a grey sky, so I thought I'd do Henry again. I know you all want him. When we came back, the sun came out briefly, so this is Henry in his garden. He has a dog flap and can come and go as he pleases. He rushes out in a flurry if he spies a squirrel, cat or seagull on his territory.

Henry, while on the lead, will growl at other dogs. This is either the fight or flight instinct, or else protecting the Leader of his Pack. Dog psychologists will know. (And in my browsing of journals, I know there IS a dog psychologist amongst us, amazingly enough.) I've noticed that he doesn't like me patting other dogs. I'm quite chuffed - it means that while Trisha's away, I AM the leader of his pack!

That's him surveying his domain. LOVE those eyebrows. They remind me of someone...