I had a lovely day yesterday, in Mediterranean warmth and sunshine, no hospital. I’ve had no news, which I take it to mean that Alexander found things much as usual and didn’t learn anything significant.
A friend rang up in the morning and whisked me off to Dr Neils Garden on the edge of Duddingston Loch. Very nice, architecturally; lacking in plant labels. We saw an abies koreana, half the size of the one we have down the commonty but absolutely covered in blue fir cones, which is/are the koreana’s party trick. We have only a few this year. I’ve Google’d it since getting home; it sounds as if perhaps young trees have more fir cones. I’ll look it up in our Big Tree Book the next time I’m in Strathardle.
Duddingston Loch is famous for the Reverend Robert Walker, but you can’t expect to spot clergymen on the loch at this time of year.
Then we went to see my friend’s sister who lives in a splendid house nearby. In between is a pub called the Sheep Heid where the Queen recently dropped in for a bite, after a day at Musselburgh races. She very rarely dines out in public in London. I suggested to my friend that we should lunch there, but neither of us, in the event, were very hungry, so we didn’t.
On all fronts except knitting, life has been accelerating. Thomas O. rang up to say that he and his wife Lucy and daughter Juliet will be here on Tuesday. Help! The spare room is full of Archie’s things, and, with my husband away, domestic help is also lacking.
But this morning comes a message from Greek Helen in Normandy. They will be in Cheshire tonight (deo volente) with David’s mother, and she will be here in Edinburgh tomorrow. She can take charge of everything; c’est son metier.
I didn’t knit a stitch yesterday.