May Blossom
The lack of any quality control on the results of my SundayBake off was no deterrent to my walking down to Maggie’s at the Western General and offering it to the nurses to have for their breaks. It is a pleasant walk through parts of Edinburgh that I don’t normally see and with a lot of workers still furloughed it is reasonably quiet. The hawthorn blossom in my blip was profuse outside Flora Stevenson’s school and amongst the white there lurked this pretty pink variation.
When I was probably about 11 or 12, I remember walking with a friend in the Hermitage beside Blackford Hill and picking some Hawthorn blossom to take back as a present for my Mum. I was very surprised that she was less than grateful for it telling me it was unlucky to have it in the house and to take it outside. I thought it so pretty and still still don’t know the reason for her reaction
It seems that the lockdown has inspired people to invest in pets for company. As I sit sunning myself on the patio, I look out on the gardens where, to my left, two spaniels lie quietly outside their house, one couple sit with two small aged dogs in a pram, another young couple have a cat which arrived in a kind of cat basket on wheels but is now exploring the grass on a lead, and to my right there are two chihuahuas on leads of at least 20 feet rooting about and yapping at people passing on the other side of the railings as their owner sunbathes. The world has gone doolally. The rabbits, incidentally, are lying low although the squirrels don’t seem to be too fazed by the other livestock.
Over the railings, the grass is covered in people. Whether or not separation is being observed is hard to see, but I doubt it. Certainly I see no exercise being undertaken. Lockdown? What lockdown? Why follow the rules when those making the rules see fit to bend them. Dominic Cummings has a lot to answer for.
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