Geid yer jotters

A mid morning yoga class pushed me into changing the routine I have fallen into since lockdown eased. The first change was that I had breakfast, egg on toast, followed by a morning stroll around Pollok Park. The night had been cold and frosty and there was a distinctly winter chill, people de-icing their cars for the first time this year.
The park was mainly full of grandmothers (one assumes) pushing toddlers all without exception in pushchairs that faced the direction of travel. It seems people talk more to their dogs than they do to babies. Perhaps this approach makes children about confident about striding out on their own. I can’t recall in what position the boys travelled, either way both them never had any problem in striding out, arguably the opposite.
The reflections on the White Cart were fantastic, no shortage of blips today. I have chosen the one of the stone bridge beside Pollok House. The little beach upstream is always busy with dogs and or children splashing about, as it was this morning.
After a challenging yoga class yesterday with V I had been psyching myself up for another constructively demanding session. The class today was very different and in the main attended by members north of my age, I enjoyed it and felt sufficiently chilled to make empire biscuits after lunch. The secret is not stint on the butter, or the pink icing.
On the day the USA President tested positive for Covid, Margaret Ferrier incomprehensively and destructively runs a coach and horses through the SNP’s elimination strategy (and I’ve just read on the Glasgow live twitter feed that she also visited a gym and the hairdressers on the day was tested), over 700 students in Newcastle test positive although only 10% display symptoms, and in Japan researchers think that the virus is spread by a small number of ‘super spreaders’, some of whom may be symptomless.
Today’s title refers to the Ferrier debacle.