It is so good to be home. I sit, surrounded by familiar knick knacks, carpets and pictures and thank the good Lord that I am finally feeling a little more normal. The journey back from the other side of the world was never ending, and I suffered the usual upsets caused by a 13hr time difference. Never mind it is getting better and today I feel almost human.

Last week John and I were in Auckland and visited the museum. There were the usual exhibits, but the most memorable was the section dedicated to ‘childhood’ and was reminiscent of the one on the Royal Mile here in Edinburgh. Toys, school slates and copy books etc. As we get older we so enjoy these collections, and I heard so many people around me proudly tell their grandchildren, ‘Oh look! I had one of those!’ Scary for I suddenly realised that all my playthings, dolls and post office sets were beautifully displayed before me. I have become one of the dinosaurs.

But it was the stuffed elephant that was the most memorable item in the Childhood section. He had been imported from India to New Zealand in the early 1900s and he was to be used as an education tool, and to give children the chance to ride on his back. Well it didn’t work out that well. He was bad tempered and vicious, and wouldn’t let anyone on his back and stomped about stamping his great legs and frightening everyone in sight. He was executed and stuffed and presented to the museum as part of their Natural History dept. Even there he wasn’t successful, for he was left in the vaults, and was totally forgotten. Now suddenly, he has been unearthed and is on display and is a real favourite apparently.  Poor beast,  he was probably suffering from jet lag.

Coming from the lush, green NZ summer to cold, dark, rainy, gloomy Edinburgh was a shock to the system. Not to be advised for anyone’s first visit. On Tuesday I marched about in Toll Cross and was saddened by the number of shops that have gone out of business, the boards that have been put up are now covered in graffiti, and the pavements seemed more cracked.  The drizzle and greyness didn’t help, and the Romanian beggar women are still in place, on their knees, only having to give what they are given to some pimp guy, who goes around taking their ‘earnings’.

Work has begun again on the tram works, so that is encouraging.

I just hope they make progress this time, and not have to re-do what they did wrong like they did the last time. So inconvenient for the businesses that are being affected, by the roads being closed, and for bus routes that are spiralling around out of control. I shall try to be optimistic and hopeful.

Yesterday I took the bus to Earlston where I met up with my fellow walkers.

We braved the 70 mph winds, the showers (that felt like needles on the face) and the occasional burst of sunshine and we walked part of the Southern Upland Way (10 miles of it) to Lauder. It was beautiful, bare and wintery, wide and open, with fields newly ploughed, and I felt as though I should be reciting a bit of Rabbie Burns as I trudged over the hills and far away.

My fellow walkers were good company and together we sheltered behind a dry stone dyke to eat our sandwiches. A bit draughty, the wind was whistling through the holes in the dyke but it was better than nothing. What could you expect for mid-January? It could have been worse.

Sadly I will not be walking off the straight and narrow in the city. The headlines in the paper are full of ‘Sex fiend strikes again’ and it seems some guy has been punching women and trying to drag them off into woodland. The Water of Leith is usually full of innocent joggers and dog-walkers, and I usually feel quite safe, but at this time of year when it’s dark I don’t feel too confident, too many isolated bits so I think I’ll wait for John to return before I go off down the canal or up Blackford Hill. Probably reading PD James doesn’t help either. Everyone suddenly looks suspicious!

I have put up lots of bird feeders, hoping to entice some little guys into the garden. So far I’ve had one pigeon, and he’s just eaten the ends of my toast.

Gerry had her hen night last night in London. Wonder how she got on. Just got a text from Natasha…she’s feeling sick. Sushi might have been the wrong choice for the day after!!!!

And tonight we have Birdsong on the BBC…how wonderful it is to be home with ‘proper’ TV!