Same old, same old!

His Lordship and I may hardly be back from our Northern Isles odyssey, but our ritual Edinburgh Sunday morning had to be adhered to, and I have to say we had more rain in the mile walk to the Temple of Toast this morning than we had in 2+ weeks in Shetland and Orkney.

It was lovely to be greeted like long lost customers by the staff of Loudon's and to have our tans admired, not that Hl's is particularly noticeable in this blip. He has the look of the benign husband, but is in reality telling me in rather forceful tones to get on with it as he wasn't going to look pleasant for much longer.

My first duty this morning was to try and remove tar, comprehensively moulded into every indentation of the heel of one of my trainers. How often does one have tar melting in Orkney heat, and a hapless Lady inadvertently stepping in it?
It was a harder job, but infinitely less smelly, than removing dog poo from the sole of a trainer.

And so life returns to what passes for normal, but how I miss the Hamnavoe ferry gliding pass my window and Orphir on the horizon. In its place, grass with trees and yet more trees.