Self help

I co-facilitate another event storming session, this time with a team that process Chancellery deeds. The room is much nicer and there are comfy chairs for the review session.

Then, it’s through to Kinghorn on the train. Nick has been there all day, walking to Kirkcaldy to pass the time. Owen arrived early evening. We’re waiting for the kitchen to arrive. Latest forecast, 6-8pm

It arrives at 7:15 in a smallish lorry. The driver reverses it to the front door. “This is a beautiful place,” he says. “I’ve lived in Leeds for 14 years and it’s sh*t.”

The units are pre-assembled, heavy and need to get up 3 flights of stairs. The three of us pant and wheeze up and down, fifty-somethings well past their prime.

Nick reminisces about his Calor has delivery days, carting two bottles to a top floor Broughton Street flat, one on each shoulder. That was thirty years of cigarettes ago.

We get a carry out from the local Chinese restaurant- decidedly sub-average. Owen heads back to Glasgow, while Nick and I take the train back to Edinburgh. We learn that it’s illegal to possess alcohol on trains in Scotland after 9pm. Who knew? We finish the can at speed.

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