Ramsay Garden

The east wind howled round the Dower House and the fallen leaves bowled along like demented things or danced in increasingly frenetic circles in the corners of the buildings.
Despite my obvious gravity, there were times when a gust would nearly blow me off my feet, or make me trip the light fantastic.
Standing still enough to take a blip required me to lean against a wall and set the shutter speed to fast.

Even the Meadows seagulls seemed reluctant to take wing lest they be blown over to Glasgow and be mugged by their Weegie brothers. Most of them called it a day and settled down on their hunkers face to the wind.

A short trip in to town to buy birthday presents for those poor unfortunates in the family whose birthdays lie in the Christmas orbit, and then it was a visit to the Mosque for lunch with seven other stalwarts.

The difference in attire was striking. Most of us wore warm clothing for eating outside, with Red capturing TFP the most warmly clad of all in jacket, muffler and woolly hat while at the other end of the spectrum, Wingpig wore a short sleeved cotton t-shirt and long cotton trousers - not the shorts he usually wears. I suppose that was a concession to the bitterness of the day.
I did note however that the hairs on his arm were vertical.

The conversation mainly seemed to concern the situation of various sauna salons offering 'services'. It seemed that they all knew friends who had told them where they were. I'm always surprised how many men have such knowledgeable friends while remaining pure as the driven snow themselves.

For those interested, Limekilns doesn't have any such salons, I have it on good authority from Instography. Maybe that's the reason for his predilection for blipping them.

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