Diary of an Edinburgher

By LadyMarchmont

Where's Henry? :-(

Sneaked out to the coffee shop early without telling Henry. This manoeuvre requires quite a lot of subterfuge and underhand doings. I can't let him see me putting my shoes on, and doors are closed until I've gone. It was my last chance to catch the elusive James. I had two coffees, read the papers and did he turn up? No. I'm beginning to think he's a figment of my imagination. But no! I do have a blip of him to prove he does exist.

It was not to be. Today was Henry's day anyway. James would have had to have been wearing his full Indian headdress AND a pink suit with a diamante top to have been the chosen one for today.

Back in time to take Henry for our last promenade together. Met Ted and Ruby and wondered at the loads of pebbles on the promenade. Either some yobbos had been there yesterday chucking bucketfuls of them from the beach, or the tide and waves were pretty spectacular along this bit. Probably the latter.

But we both got angry today. Henry growled and snapped at a dog that got too familiar, and I just glared at a woman who blatantly didn't pick up her dog's doings. Right there on the beach. I should have growled and snapped at her!

This is Henry, tired after his walk, relaxing and watching the goings on. I loved this pose with his legs stretched out the back, and always wanted to get a pic of it.

As we packed our cases, he knew something was up. So what did he do as we left? Yes. He jumped up on the sofa and gazed sorrowfully after us as we waved and went sorrowfully up the road. :-(

The plane was delayed for 10 minutes or so due to "Extreme weather conditions north east of Gatwick". What was it - a tornado?

The young mum in front of us had the right idea. She sat and read her Kindle, while across the passageway, dad sat with the two wee kids, and had to entertain them the whole way.

As we came in to land in Edinburgh (snow on the Pentlands!) the wee boy was obviously playing a game with dad, hiding his wee toy. But dad was trying to read his magazine, and wasn't responding quickly enough.

The wee lad was shouting repeatedly,
"Where's Henry, Daddy?"
"Where's Henry, Daddy?"
"Where's Henry, Daddy?"

Just what we were thinking...

:-(


PS We've been in email contact with Trisha and Henry and we all agree we'll do this swap again sometime!

:-)

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