Growing old disgracefully

By GOD

Stravaigin

It's a while since I've been Stravaigin. No that's not true, ah'm aye stravaigan*, but it is a while since I have been in the wonderful eatery of that name, being more a laid back country girl than a frenetic West Ender. Tonight I lured the Professor to an evening with JK-Z with a promise of a pre theatre in Stravaigin. Other eateries in the West End seem to come and go more often than I change my socks, but Stravaigin (along with Andaluz and the Ubiquitous Chip) seem to go on forever. Almost everything on the menu tonight seemed to be made with rhubarb, no problem to my palate, but a bit daunting as we were about to sit for around 4 hours in a cramped lecture theatre. Call for clenched buttocks.

I'm not one for gurus, but in spite of being largely responsible for the secularisation and promotion of mindfulness in western medicine, Jon Kabat-Zinn does not set himself up to be one. His mild, gentle manner and excellent comic timing were just as good as on screen, and close up he has a wonderful elvish twinkle in his eye. I am back tomorrow for the full day conference, but I sense some deep resistance - could be partly the forecast of glorious weather tomorrow and partly the thought of those awful lecture hall seats.

THREE GOOD THINGS
Connecting with old pals at the event
Rhubarb ice cream
Crunchy home grown salad

*Lowland Scots for wandering around aimlessly and somewhat mischievously

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