Thursday 14 July 2011: Absence
This may be the warmest day of our so called summer, but too early yet for passers-by by to stop here for a coffee and people watch.
For some reason I was a bit out of humour this morning and had non of my usual joie de vivre. I think the lack of cakes in my diet and a surfeit of salads are having a deleterious effect on my energy levels.
And so there I was, lazily sitting in the sun on the patio after lunch, when a line of eight yellow coated policemen wearing white helmets appeared in front of me, combing the grass in front of the flat. All a bit worrying really.
I tried not to look guilty, and almost felt the need to tell them that his Lordship and I both had impeccable alibis for the last 24 hours, and that all the knives were present and correct in the kitchen drawer.
Apparently they have been on the site all day looking for a weapon, in grass and hedges, believing something has been tossed into the grounds from the Meadows.
I'm tempted to say "There must have been a murrrrder," with a Glasgow roll of the 'r's., but that is pure supposition.
Perhaps some Edinburgh blipper who has read or heard something can satisfy my curiosity.
With our book group having summer holidays and the ( to me) welcome relief from reading "good literature', I noticed with horror that the next meeting is at my house in about three weeks and I hadn't even bought the book.
So with its purchase this morning, The Hare With Amber Eyes, I noticed with more horror that it's thick and very factual and not what I would call an easy summer read.
When the family tree of those involved in the book covers 2 pages, you know you're in trouble.
I may be forced to read during the day, an occupation which was so frowned upon in my presbyterian upbringing, that I find it almost impossible to lift a book unless at night in bed.
I may have to change my habits this time round.