Haar haar

Despite the forecast of '100% chance of rain', and despite the gloomy skies, we struck out this morning optimistically clad in summer garb. And were damp within 20 minutes.

Over to see Aunty Betty this morning and a fine 'croissant and chocolate biscuit' breakfast, then some IT consultancy sorting out her iTunes account. Off then to query the funny noise the new-to-us car is making, only to be told it is fine. Which is something of a novelty for us.

Me and the kids headed into town while Mr B sorted out the car, and after some easy shopping with CarbBoy ("CarbBoy, you need some new shoes" "OK, can I have those ones?" "Yes.") there was some sulky teenage shopping involving TallGirl telepathically knowing within 1 metre of the shop door that she didn't like anything in it: "Did you look at everything?" "Yes." "What even the things upstairs that are hidden from our position here just inside the door by the ceiling?" "Yes."

I gave up.

In another shop, where I was buying something for myself, she chose a t-shirt with a badger's head on it (or a raccoon, I'm not sure and didn't like to ask). The head is made from black and silver sequins. Sadly, I don't think it'll survive the first (boil) wash...*

Then late Italian lunch to fill the kids up with pasta and a quick trip to the National Gallery to avoid the rain. Mr B sadly couldn't avoid the rain later when he went out to top up the parking meter, and it was a tricky choice for his evening outfit between the wet shirt out of the rain, and the wet shirt straight out of the washing machine.

Later, I was allowed to buy a hat. I have wanted this exact hat for years, I just didn't know I would find it on a street stall on the Royal Mile. We are going to be very happy together.

Later still, drinks and seafood with the Canadians where everyone liked (phew) the Cumbrian lamb me and the waiter made them eat. They then headed off to the senior Bs en masse, while I came home to the kids. It was such a lovely evening that CarbBoy and I headed out for a stroll. TallGirl was already in bed and quite outraged at the thought of leaving the apartment after 9pm, so we let her be, and the boy and I had a pleasant wander around the neighbourhood, where I bought him a new tartan wallet and introduced him to some choice new language in the Grassmarket.

Home to settle everyone to sleep and suddenly there were fireworks at the Castle and I thought I might have died of shock. So loud.

Soon Mr B will burst in, full of whisky and chat...

*Obviously I'm joking. I don't mind if she wears clothes I don't like. I do mind that the only 'smart' top she professes to own is a shirt that is so small she can't move her arms.