Alone, alone, all, all alone. Well, apart from the cats.

Daughter 2 is off with Mr Life to admire narrow-gauge rail steam trains in Wales. He often goes at this time of year and this year she decided to accompany him so that he wouldn't be lonely. Of course he was delighted, since she's a lovely companion and she's also mildly interested in engines, unlike me. She arrived last night with these flowers and chocolates as a consolation for me, being left alone with the cats. As she came in the door, she sang, "Happy No-Us to you..." etc.

They left early this morning. She took with her the ghost that her sister recently knitted (see earlier blog post). I bought the original ghosts some years ago (well, you have to buy a knitted ghost when you see one, you'll agree) and last Hallowe'en, Daughter 2 commissioned Daughter 1 to produce a replica set. Somehow the situation didn't seem urgent at the time, but spectre-creation has recently taken place. The other one is now finished but not in time to be handed over for the Wales trip. However, this one can preside over Mr and Miss Life's Hallowe'en celebrations. (In fact I imagine that it will constitute the sum total of their Hallowe'en celebrations.)

Some of us had to go to work. However, I enjoyed walking home among the autumn colours. This tree is in the college grounds.

As is this one. The air was mild, if a trifle fast-moving.

We used to have lots of rabbits in the college grounds, too. We more or less had to wade through them to get to the front door. However a new sports hall (of appalling ugliness) is currently being built in the rabbit area - Watership Down 2 - so there are currently fewer bunnies. Here's one, though. Quite cute, really, though not if it was in my garden.

Cotoneaster berries as I walked through the car park of the warehouse next door to the college. Looking for beauty in everything, that's me.

On I walked.

Across the park. Corstorphine Hill in the background.

Looking back towards the Pentland Hills. I can never quite decide whether I love hills or the sea more. We're not far from either here.

The Dower House, which dates from the mid-17th century.

I tried to take a close-up of some yellow rowan berries but it was windy. Quite modern-arty, don't you think? Maybe I should enter it for the Turner Prize.

Then through the grounds of the even more elderly Corstorphine Old Parish Church. I felt positively young in comparison but reflected ruefully that in 30 years, when I'll probably not be around any more, it will look much the same. Hmm.

There it is.

It's bigger than me, too.

All those people, once alive and now dead. I like to be cheery.

And on to the main road. I nearly ended my life even sooner by taking a picture through the traffic of this aptly named Wee Shop. That's the size of it: a door's width. According to the Corstorphine Trust website:

The "Wee Shop" situated in St John’s Road is claimed to be the smallest shop in Scotland. It measures about 40" at its widest point, the front door, then tapers back to about 18". It is about 4’ 6" long.

At one time the premises belonged to the Corstorphine Temperance Society, but ownership passed to the Corstorphine Trust in the 1970s.

A variety of tenants have leased the shop over the years. In the early 1940s it was rented by a Mr Thomson who was a tobacconist and confectioner. Rent was £10 per annum, and the rates were also £10.

Mrs Grundey ran her personal corsetry business* from the shop from 1952 to 1959. A watchmaker, shoemaker and coal merchant have all rented it at some time. It is currently leased by a local firm of solicitors, Messrs Dickson, McNiven and Dunn WS.

* I imagine that fat ladies would find it a bit cramped. But then I suppose even thin ladies might go in feeling reasonably dainty and then immediately get the impression that they were huge. So possibly this was good for business.

And now I'm sitting in a quiet house... it's slightly spooky, since I so seldom am alone at night. But hey, I have my furry friends. Not to say all you cyber chums.

Have a good weekend, everyone.