I’ve been thinking a lot about obituaries since the New Year. It was triggered during the dinner at New Year’s Eve, when someone was talking about a sport or hobby and said, ‘at least that’s something they can put in the obit.’ Since then I’ve paid attention to some of the things people write…the forty years of hard day-to-day drudgery of life seems unimportant. Instead it’s his ‘good works,’ his dedication to the boy scouts or his impressive low handicap that seems to ‘mark the man’.

I was saddened to hear of the death of a brilliant actor in Leith Theatre whom I was really lucky to have been in plays with. His name was Alex Purves. He was funny, dedicated and always ‘there’. Imagine my surprise when I read his obituary, and learnt that he had been a bank manager until he retired, and then his REAL life took off. He gave his all to his first love, acting, and got an equity card and appeared in Taggart and other Scottish productions as well as being one of the main characters in Leith Theatre.

John is all fired up after meeting a new crowd of people last night at Marion’s. A retired dentist was the highlight of the evening as he enthused about his passion for skiing. I kept quiet, not wishing to discuss my demotion to the remedial class on my first ever trip to Austria. Anyway John is all zippy and is enquiring about trains to Aviemore and sprung out of bed this morning and went jogging round the Meadows. Oh good grief…I was a bit alarmed, as the snow is still thick on the ground, and I vaguely wondered what I should write on his obit. Anyway he bounced back in, full of exhilaration and has now bounced back out to buy me an Observer which I intend to read, snuggled up on my comfy blue sofa.

Nick and I went marching on Thursday and called in to the Calton Cemetery where the great David Hume, hero and philosopher of the Enlightenment is resting under a massive memorial that marks the city skyline.

 He was a great sceptic, and believed that passion is more important than reason, and that humans have knowledge only of things they directly experience. There is also a grand classical statue of him that sits outside the High Court and where students think it is the funniest thing in the world to crown his lofty head with a traffic cone. Ah well, I couldn’t help wondering what his peers thought of him…did he dance an elegant quadrille or was he a great supporter for raising money for the less fortunate…who knows?

I wonder if it’s too late to take up ballet? That could be my great achievement. Anna Pavlova has been my pin up since I was about 9, and for years I used to walk, pointing my toes and imagining dying swans and other romantic notions. This year (so far) I have bought two ballet posters, one of the said dying swan and the other of a grande jete,  and I also bought the Lavery print of Pavlova, who actually posed for him.

Tonight I might start with a couple of plies whilst I wait for the bath to run!