Saturday

Today was a wonderfully random assortment of events, none of which had anything whatsoever to do with writing.

I got up and did my laundry this morning first thing. I possibly could have slept in past nine, except for the fact that our lovely pipe people decided that 9:15 on a Saturday morning is an ideal time to lay new asphalt. It was loud and smelly, and I hate them all.

This is one of Scotland's 'open weekends', meaning that most of the historical sites are free to the public. Ella and I took advantage of this to see Edinburgh Castle, saving ourselves £11 each in the process, and would have seen the Stone of Destiny and the jewels had the line not been ridiculous. Seems that everyone else in the city had the same idea, for some reason...

Tonight was the SCO and a mixed program featuring a superb cellist. Even one of the first violinists was dancing along. Sadly, our cheap seats didn't give us a view of the Jack Black-esque cellist who really gets into his music, so I don't know how he was affected. Pity.

Then there were nachos, always a good end to a Saturday night.