Wild rose

Not actually very wild as it was in a garden at the top of my street. I blipped it on my way home from seeing the second half of the Scottish galleries at the National Gallery with JP followed by a modest lunch afterwards at Bar Napoli on Hanover Street. We each had affogato, espresso coffee poured over vanilla ice cream for dessert, which was much the best part of the meal.

No growling or hissing today from Lexi or Alfie, thank goodness. I think they must have got over each other’s trips to the vet.