At last, I am sitting calmly looking out of the window and seeing the orange montbretia lighting up the flower border. In Glenelg I always thought of it as the herald of autumn, for it comes along with the ripe brambles, the elderberries, rowans and just a hint of the bracken beginning to turn.
We have spent the week ripping and thinning and cutting back. As I yanked heavily embedded ferns I wondered at the phrase about ‘the gentle gardener’. It is a tough world out here wrestling with unwanted interlopers, and John’s and my hands are looking a little the worse for wear. Still order has prevailed and we can now walk up and sit and have our morning coffee and discuss the lavender and pruning the roses. I LOVE MY LIFE!

We hit the ground running when we returned home from Doha, and haven’t stopped since. We did a whirlwind tour of the Royal Mile and all the Festival nonsense with John’s son James and his girlfriend Christine, back from Hong Kong for a while.


It was so nice, and so much fun to see the city through a newcomer’s eyes. We marched them down the Water of Leith, through the Botanics, and up to the castle.

The sun shone and then the heavens opened and we were all soaked. Such is life.
John and I did go out on a bike ride the other day. Probably the first trip since before going to Australia, so we were quite keen to shake off the cobwebs and get out and smell the grass, so to speak.

We cycled along the River Almond to Cramond, and ate a sandwich and took in the wide expanse of the Forth, looking over to Fife, and tried to imagine the brave Romans sitting about in their legions just where we were sitting. They soon turned back though, probably missed their warmer climes and hanging about in togas.

Anyway we got lost after cycling along the wide esplanade and couldn’t find the cycle track. We asked many of Edinburgh’s finest, in some of the more dodgy housing estates that we ended up in, where the cycle track was… ‘Dinnae ken, maybe if you go up there to the city bypass you could get back to the city centre,’ and we cycled madly along with busses and WHITE vans (the worst form of traffic) until we found a wonderful woman with sunken cheeks (no teeth?) who knew everything: ‘Aye, you just go back the way you came, it’ll take aboot half an hoor, and then you go this way and then that way and ye cannae miss it!’ We did, and she was right and off we went.
Four and half hours after leaving the house in the morning we got home, and plunged into a hot bath… Oh, it was wonderful! Amazingly enough, next day we felt fine! Maybe all the sewing I did, kept me fit!

Last night we went to Mike’s 60th birthday party at one of Edinburgh’s rugby clubs, and were met by our host wearing a brown cardigan, slippers and a horrid bald wig! Signs of things to come, but for all that he was as excited as though he had just turned 21. There was a very loud band, a crowd of rugby players and a smattering of refined ladies who struggled to shout above the music. I did like meeting up with my actress friend Irene, wife of the evening’s star of the show, and other Leith Theatre people. Good to talk, when there was a break in the hullabaloo!

I had a lovely chat with Natasha and Bonnie on skype, and met up a few times with Gerry. In fact we are going to see her this afternoon, so all that is good.

My quilts are piled up on the spare bed, so beautiful, and a poignant memory of two amazing years with some wonderful ladies in Doha.
But now I must look ahead. What will the future hold?

Perhaps it is best to live and give thanks for each day. But, just before I go, I will add this picture of Bonnie, demonstrating how useful she was to Tasha and Gerry whilst they were out shopping in Cardiff!