Spot the badger

No animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.

A 4:30 alarm prompts me to today’s pilgrimage to Heathrow. A bowl of porridge and a short flight later, Claire picks me up at Edinburgh airport and whisks me off home.

Early evening sees us back in Kinghorn looking at another seaside flat for sale. This one is top floor, in need of “substantial renovation”.

It’s raining.

We watch Sleepers and then sleep.