Neighbours

It would certainly be a faux pas in Northumberland Street not to have your door brasses shined to the required standard. There was not one bell, door knocker or letterbox that you could fault on their degree of gleam.

With the number of advocates names on the doors, I'm sure it must be their minions who venture out of a morning with tins of brasso and polishing cloths.

I picked these two adjoining doors for the contrast in colour and style: a decorated fanlight and kickplate versus a doorknocker. No 50 has gone for colour to make a point. I wonder if the inmates get on.

I was in the New Town to have lunch with daughter #1 who works in that airt, and a fine hour we had nattering over lentil soup and herb scones.

Before that I had coffee with a neighbour of an even more certain age than myself, who is excellent company, and makes me laugh so much that time flies very quickly.

She was full of helpful hints on how to beat insomnia, one of which involves an indefinite amount of late night brandy with milk.
I forgot to ask her if you take alternate slugs or if you mix them in the glass. Anyway, it's a bit irrelevant as we don't have any brandy.

Before I know it, his Lordship will be back from his day in the hills, and I have been told to give him a warm welcome whatever time he decides to appear. Just saying 'hi' is apparently not good enough. I blame his mother.