D whistle

Nobody likes a whistler, particularly not the divinity that shapes our ends.

Once again, I‘m hugely appreciative of the BA showers at Heathrow. Their porridge, bacon butties, pastries, and bananas are pretty good too. The flight to Edinburgh is packed, but I’m so tired that I doze through it.

Claire and Megan are out planting trees in memory of Damian - it’s about to get dark so I don’t go and join them. When they return we exchange gifts. Megan gets a D-whistle for her birthday (next week) and a T-shirt (just because). Claire gets the Canada Goose jacket that I bought in the US, as well as a 64GB memory stick.

Megs & I go up to Dreva for an open house. It’s remarkably upbeat considering it’s really a wake. There’s more food than booze, and more faces I don’t recognise than do. We don’t stay long - Claire needs fed and Megan needs to get back to Glasgow. Also, I am tired.