Primroses en route to the hospital

Normally I would have ridden my exercise bike this morning, then walked to the gym for 60 lengths in the pool. I changed my routine today to accommodate my annual mammogram appointment first thing, the need to read The instrumentalist by Harriet Constable for our book group gathering this evening, and my on-going struggle to find time to edit Rachel's journal article.

I still got up at 6:00am, but instead of riding my bike while watching television, I lay on the sofa in my pyjamas and read. I picked up my reading again when I returned from the hospital, reaching the end of the book just before lunchtime. Mission accomplished, I was able to turn my attention to writing for the rest of the afternoon. 

Winsford and LauraMuir arrived for their overnight book group stay chez hazelh just before 5pm. About half an hour later, the three of us headed on foot to Portobello for our meeting, with a couple diversions to look at the Craigentinny Marbles, walk along the prom, and check out the Coade stone columns in the Portobello community garden. 

A 'full house' at Emma's made for a very lively evening. We were all especially interested to learn about Ridgeback13's house buying/selling adventures and her recent trip to the Far East, hear the latest work news from the four still in paid employment, and congratulate the newest granny amongst our members. Since our book was set in Venice and it was St Patrick's Day, Emma prepared Italian antipasti, parmigiana and ribollita for the main part of our meal, followed by a chocolate sponge made with Irish cream and served with zabaglione for pudding.

None of us was particularly keen on The instrumentalist. For me, the story was rather flat and lacking in intrigue, with a narrative style to match. I was also a bit annoyed at some expression that read as anachronistic in a story set in the seventeenth century, as well as instances of twenty-first century ideas shoe-horned into the narrative. At one point we started drawing comparisons between the story and that of Harry Potter: the main character is an orphan, pines for a parent, goes to a specialist school to learn a life-changing skill, wears a cape, wields a stick-like instrument (in this case a bow), has a difficult relationship with a teacher (cf Snape), haunted by fears of intangible ghost-like figures... 

I blipped the primroses on my way to the hospital this morning.

Exercise today: walking (27,469 steps).