Telling the Time in Flowers

I had intended sharing with you a blip of my new shoes, but the pleasure has been postponed in favour of the floral clock in Princes Street Gardens, the planting of which must surely be a tribute to precision and a faith in nature's cooperation.

I wish I had paid particular attention to the time on the clock when I was blipping it, because for the life of me I can't see the hands in the image looking as though it were 10:50, the time I passed. Perhaps with its likely demise soon, it is on a go slow.

His Lordship being up in the hills, sans car, sans WiFi and sans mobile reception, communing with nature in its elemental form, I took the opportunity to have a free coffee and cake before the invitation from John Lewis expires today.

There was then a scurry back to The Dower House to await the imminent arrival of THE MODEM. Suddenly BT have realised the error of their ways and have assured us it will be delivered by 6 pm today. It will be no hardship to sit outside in the sun and wait.