Move along, nothing to see here,

Not for the first time have I wished to be a foot taller in height. In my head I am a tall person but unfortunately there is no possibility of transitioning to be 6’ft tall. The more I shrink while the duvet I’m trying to fold stays the same size, the harder it gets. I learned to fold a sheet ( no duvets when I was a child) as a child with my mother holding one end. I even used my husband and children in her place to hold the ends when I had outgrown my mother , but to do it on one’s own is no picnic.

The duvet folding came after a morning spending time with the daughter in town . We had hoped to go to Victor Hugo in Castle Street for a change of scene for our coffee but discovered they don’t open until 10am which is far to late for us early birds, so we slipped down the street to Costa and got a window table through which we could people watch. I was delighted to see the area to the east of the RSA building devoid of the Festive trappings - no ferris wheel or other gaudy amusements and no Christmas Market.  It was back to douce gentility.

The rest of the day has vanished with only the preparation of a chicken stew to show for it. All that chopping of vegetables is so tiring that time out with the newspaper has been the order of the afternoon. It may be mildish outside but it is so cloudy that it looks quite uninviting.