Slept in...there's been an undercurrent of meh / bleurgh and other onomatopoeic words - just feeling a little off the pace. 
So a day at home writing reports and plotting the next couple of days out and about was most welcome. Not the most productive day but certainly not the least, either.

And come 1730 when the time was up, I hung up the washing and headed out on the bike to hers; a slightly devious route cos she was sleeping (long story...) which took me through the park, past Tesco before tackling the hill from a slightly easier angle in deference to feeling rubbish. A pleasant sunny cycle, though.

She did her new curry again; and croquettas as a starter (mushrooms included this time) - w inning menu only lacking the pear choc strawberry dessert - time ran out, and therefore so did I before the clock struck 9 and I turned into a rat pumpkin. 

I mooched a while at Quartermile, admiring the new circles there before heading off down the hill; just before hitting the home straight a yell of 'Cigs' was heard above the rushing of the wind as I sped home. A neighbour formerly of this parish had been unceremoniously ejected from the bus as Lower Granton Road had been closed due to a fire. She was furiously trying to remember if she'd left a fish finger sandwich in the oven for the man of the house, but I chummed her home and all was well; the action was another half mile further up the road; 50 fire fighters in attendance. (I know, what use is that intelligence a day later...?)
So I finally collapsed into bed and slept soundly; far too much excitement for one night for a quiet living country boy like me.