Always look on the bright si-ide of life...

We went to the Botanics the other day with the Edinburgh family and there were signs of spring such as snowdrops and hellebores, 

though I'm kind of kidding myself here because of course hellebores are Christmas roses so... where am I getting this spring idea? 

The children came home with us because they're allowed to.

Biggest Granddaughter: Granny, I'm going to draw a picture of you.

Me: Can you make me look young and beautiful?

BG: No, sorry, I can only draw you as you are. I'll miss out some of the wrinkles, though. 

(In fact, I do look fairly young in her picture. I'll take that.)

Apart from that, there's nothing to report. We've been going for walks. 

The weather has been beautiful.

Yesterday we walked up through Ravelston Woods. 

Today we walked into Corstorphine along the cycle path, down towards the tram line, 

and along past the golf course.

Various trains and trams passed, all virtually empty, reminding us of the places that we can't go.

There was no one in the allotments. 

It's all fairly dreary. We ourselves are fine but the Covid figures - people infected and also people admitted to hospital - are now worse than in the previous high point in April. Presumably this is because of this new, highly infective strain and also maybe because things had opened up a bit. They're also expecting an even higher spike in a couple of weeks once people who infected each other on Christmas Day hit the statistics. O joy.

So we keep to ourselves - and I realise that we're lucky, having a warm and comfortable house, a television, lots of books and plenty to eat - talk to the  family on Zoom or the phone and, as Rabbie Burns said in his depressing poem "To a Mouse" - "An' forward, though I cannot see, I guess and fear".

Always end on a high note, that's the thing.