Every time that we stopped to take a photo on our walk along the headland the gap between us and Jonathan Ross narrowed. Eventually he was so close behind us that we could hear every word he shared with his companions, including some critical remark about the way that we were framing our photographs. I held back to defend our approach and in the course of conversation discovered that we were all heading for the same theatre performance. Jonathan Ross seemed to assume that I would be his date for the evening, taking my arm as we reached the theatre door. There the doorman recognised him and suggested that he join the back of the queue while VIP seats were set up for him and “his partner”. I panicked. I would love to experience an evening as a VIP, but what about my poor husband? I sneaked away from Jonathan to find TPR in the front stalls of the theatre all by himself, seated just in front of DB and LD. He was clearly not happy with my new plans for the evening, but reluctantly let me follow them through. Meanwhile at the forefront of my mind was how to introduce Jonathan to Kev F Sutherland and his amazing Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre.
On another day our gym friends met at the Omni Centre not for a run, but for drinks. Amongst them was my school friend AH (now AR) explaining her theory entitled “The fifths of university life” along with ambitions for her young daughter. Meanwhile I started rooting through the bins in the foyer. I was proved right: people had been throwing away all sorts of things that could easily be used by others. There was even a whole loaf of brown-sliced bread still in its wrapper although, admittedly, its sell-by date was 23rd January 1995. It wasn’t mouldy, so perhaps it had been kept in a freezer all this time? When the party broke up we set off by car to make some deliveries to a housing estate on the south side of Edinburgh. Two bombers flew over as we turned into London Road. LW, sitting in the back, said that if the threatened war became a reality, it would go dark each day at 1:30pm and everyone would be forced to shelter at home. “Great”, I thought, “Finally a cure for my workaholism!”
Dreamaticus 