Ivy on the Square

I am so glad I had something to look forward to this morning other than dreary housework (who exactly am I kidding……housework??) I was meeting my school friend for our monthly catch up in the Ivy on the Square. It was a horribly cold, dreich day as I sasheyed down to Princes street well wrapped up against the elements. I was going to write tripped down to PrincesStreet but I thought that, given my penchant for falling  you might get the wrong idea. I did descend the Playfair steps with the usual trepidation. In days of yore I might have taken them two at a time but now my brain and feet have a time delay and it takes all my concentration to keep my feet from going on strike while my brain is still going forward. Therein does disaster lie.

The Ivy was empty of other customers  for quite  some time and given that the management probably know us of old for being frugal toast eating bus pass holders we got splendid attention and lots of toast. There has been no need for lunch.

Now that I am home I have turned my back , literally, on the desolate view outside the window. The heating is on and this afternoon, surrounded by 6 vases of spring flowers presented to me yesterday, I am intending to chill, remembering that nearby there is that bottle of pink gin.