The Remains of the Day, so to Speak

Flaming June? I don’t think so. It was 8 ° when I exited this morning to rattle the cage of the printers in Portobello charged with printing my latest Blipfoto books. It is always better to talk to people face to face rather than on the telephone .Then it was a windy cold walk through Portobello to meet up with Oman daughter at her flat. She returns to Muscat on Saturday but it will only be another two months before she is back for good and will then be known as Portobello daughter or even Katherine.

Monday is not a day for cafés in Porty to favour opening, but after rejecting the nearest open one -the Skylark because it was bursting at the seams with yummy mummies and their offspring, we found a delightful one nearby which filled the bill.

Having mentioned in passing to K that I was wondering if I should sell one of my bicycles, the Dawes Sardar, she came back to the Dower House to see it because she would like a bike to use in addition to her upmarket road bike. It seemed to pass muster. I will be sad to see it go as it has flown with me and transported me on many travels in France, Belgium, Denmark, South Africa and Vietnam. However it’s nice to know it’s not going outside the family.

I was not unhappy today to see the Fair packed up and gone and the Meadows Festival music tents away too. The portaloos were the last things to go - I imagine they need delicate handling after 2 days usage. And so normal service has resumed outside the Dower House. Hallelujah!