The Dreaming Spires of Quartermile

The dreaming spires of Quartermile on yet another day of rain and general gloom.
I ventured forth for my Sunday coffee without the presence of my coven of Merry Widows. One of them is out of action this week and the other one is busy preparing for guests and so I looked like Billy No Mates as I drank my Cappuccino solo and munched my raspberry bun, the latter being a one off reward to myself for going it alone.

Afterwards there was no way I even considered doing anything other than scuttle back to the house and write some Christmas cards. I closed the blinds at 3:15 this afternoon having given up on the day.  I even felt  just a teensy bit sorry for all the people thronging the Christmas Market in Princes Street Gardens which has been said to be very poor this year, rain or no rain. At least it’s not encroaching on George Square which is eerily quiet at the moment with the students away for Christmas.