Up early to arrange doctor's appointments for both me and Tom. 

**Backstory - I got struck off by my GP practice in the middle of Covid. No. Really. I'd been with the practice since - 1998? - when I first moved to Edinburgh from Hong Kong. Although I'd moved about a bit (Morningside was definitely out of their catchment area!) it had largely been within North Edinburgh. I remember when moving to Lower Granton Road that I checked and at that time it was still in the practice area - that was 2003? The next move was in 2005 to a flat a mere 200 yards away, so I assume was in the area. 

I currently live about 400 yards from the last address, and 300 yards from the Lower Granton Road one, but I think somewhere along the line the practice redrew their boundaries, so when I moved last - 2012? although I was moving a very short distance, I was technically moving to an address outwith their catchment. However, the boys haven't moved and so remain as patients of the practice. 

At the time when I got the letter I was incandescent but despite verbal protestations, I was told I had to submit a written request to be reinstated on the practice register. Apart from anything else, elbowing someone out of GP practice in the midst of the biggest public health crisis in a century was an act of madness. Anyway, I never got around to venting at the practice manager and eventually signed up to my local surgery. But until now, I'd never had to avail myself of their services. There's a minor lump on the side of my nose that She wants me to have looked at. And Tom has an ongoing thing about migraine, so actually having different doctors is a pain in the backside I'd never previously considered and probably ought to have explained to the f***wits at the old surgery. But hey, it's done.

Anyway, Tom got a call at 0930; I managed to drop off a power cable at Her's before my 1050 appointment and then back home for lunch via Asda. (Nothing too serious the Dr reckons, but will refer me to Dermatology for them to have a more practiced look at it)

After that, it was a tried and tested afternoon of TdF on TV, test match on the radio and test match highlights later in the evening. With light dozing thrown into the mix. 

And - finally. My payment for participating in the blip whisky tennis match between MrSmith and the boy Creel was a sample of the 11 y.o.. Longrow. A fine drop so it is. I almost regret delivering the bottle now....