Street Theatre

What was he thinking?
His Lordship was in fine fettle this morning after his day of solitude yesterday, and with nothing stronger than a coffee having been imbibed, he saw this solitary piece of street barricade outside the Museum as Trigger, and himself as the Lone Ranger.
All that was needed was an old hat laid on the pavement beside him and we might have made our fortune. What Mr Playfair thought as he stood on his plinth in the background, we can only surmise-perhaps not such a good look, I imagine.

Well, the book group was a lively affair last night with a bit of exercise factored in, as two members had to travel to the Dower House on the bus and the other four had to employ shanks's pony and cross the wild Meadows on foot, the nearest parking spot in George Square being usurped by the Fringe.

The cake was edible and enjoyed, but one's own never tastes quite as good as when it is made by other people. There is a large slice left for HL to enjoy at tea time.