Back to work

It happens tomorrow, and I'm girding my loins. The policy is: never go back to work on a Monday after hols, as 5 full days of wage slavery at once could just tip one over into postal mode. This possibility was slightly increased by today's PFO (please fuck off) letter from a recent jobbie application for which I should've been well suitable.

Ach, it's no so bad. Samye Ling on Tuesday offered good weather, a beautiful environment, fantastic lunch, a wee wan to enjoy and genuinely interesting otherness from Hotboy, the tummo afficianado. Wednesday I chose to read all day and indulge myself by failing to get dressed, which is always satisfying. Today I enjoyed good company with the wee wan, visiting the Chambers St museum and the Botanics.

It was disappointing to learn from the cleaning staff that the old part of the museum is off-limits till 2011/2012, and the fishies are gone for good. I'd been planning to spend a couple of hours by the ponds listening to the fountains, watching the koi undulate, while doing some manuscript editing, and wait for the millenium clock performance at 2 pm. Instead we took in the RMS's magnificent collection of Pictish stone carvings, with particular attention to the pre-Christian ones (my favourites). The RMS sadly makes little effort to attempt explanation of the mysterious themes of earlier Pictish imagery ('combs', 'mirrors', 'Zs', 'dolphins'). When the sun broke through the clouds temporarily, off to the Botans to see the annual border at its peak, and watch the birdies doing their birdie thing. The simple pleasures are the very best!

H-etc. dropped round, allowing me to pass along some truly fresh-laid eggs from the flock across the road from our Yorks. cottage. And to thank her for clearing my laundry backlog while I was away, and the bouquet of wild canterbury bells and feverfew she left for our return. She wouldn't take the money offered for feeding Her Catness. Her full name is not H-who-is-very-good-to-me for nothing.