The river

The only trouble about having visitors is that while they're there, one doesn't do the mundane householdy/life-task things. So in the last few days, we've been boringly doing these. And you know how it is: you do something and then realise that you have to do something else first. But today the sun shone and it was warm and we walked along to the gallery for coffee. Look! People sheltering under sun umbrellas. (No, it wasn't exactly that hot.)

Then we walked down the steps and home along the river. These aren't the right sort of bluebells - they're the Spanish variety, and a terrible weed - but they look pretty. 

The trees have suddenly burst into full leaf. 

The river flowed very smoothly. 

In the park, the cherry blossom is mainly on the ground now, but it's still bonny. 

These blobs on the river are a mum and dad mallard and their two babies. I'm sure there ought to be more babies, but - well, let's not think about that.

And now I must go and do some more boring tasks. 

 

Time passing

And so life continues, perfectly pleasantly if it weren't for the frustration of not being able to meet up with our non-Edinburgh children and grandchildren. If things go to plan, we're allowed to travel within Scotland at the end of April and outside Scotland mid-May. If things don't... . And this already seems ages. So we go for walks along the river, like the other day...

and admire the daffodils on the way up to the Art Gallery

and in the gallery grounds. And then we walk home. All perfectly pleasant and so enviable compared to the many poor people in horrible war zones, so one shouldn't complain. But meanwhile these beautiful children are growing up and we'll never get that time with them again. 

I've been adding borders to my ice cream quilt. It's not for anyone in particular so I've just been indulging myself with scraps of favourite fabrics. Included in it are various patches cut from spare bits of curtain material from the house, some scraps of our old napkins, some strips of my mother's napkins (the dark pink) and various fabrics that remind me of other quilts in which they've featured. It's riotously pastel and a bit silly but I'm having a happy time just improvising. 

At least we're seeing the Edinburgh Two. Yesterday they were playing with Playdoh. "This," said Big Grandson, "is Beary Queen of Scots". In case you're not versed in Scottish history, Mary Queen of Scots was beheaded, poor soul, by Elizabeth of England, her cousin. Grandson's class are learning about her in school. "It's a bit gruesome for children our age," said Grandson. "Well, we did her last year," said Biggest Granddaughter, "and we were only seven. You'd think they'd find more cheerful things to teach us about." 

Today we walked round Cammo, an estate given to the city after its last owners died. 

The big house is mainly demolished. Today the place was blessedly dog-free (ish). I quite like individual dogs but there are so many in Edinburgh; and Big Grandson doesn't like to go to places where people walk their dogs (which is more or less everywhere) because he's so scared of them - not that he was with us today. I don't think that (some) dog owners realise that not everyone is enchanted with their furry friends. On the other hand, I can't imagine why some people don't like cats (and they're so furry!), not to say children. So - hey ho. 

The flowering currant smells rather strong but it's so pretty. 

There are remnants everywhere of the grand house of yore. 

The city is gradually encroaching on the countryside. 

These are the remains of a cottage dating from 1780. From excavations, it's thought that this was once a wright's workshop, where wooden and metal things from the estate were mended. 

And this is the long pond which formed part of the vista from the house. 

It's beautiful but rather melancholy. The grounds are maintained enough to make them safe, but nature's trying to reclaim the land, and time overtakes everything in the end. Which is possibly a good thing. 

I passed through the living room tonight when Mr L was watching "The Gadget Show". A teenager was saying sympathetically that in the old days, people had to use typewriters to send their emails. 

Well, sort of.