the truck hammer

The weekend started Saturday morning. Mist lingered through the valley and I snapped a few pics before getting the train through to Edinburgh. I was there to get picked up and taken to Fife. I hate not having a car.

Saturday boasted the Luvians Wine Fair and then a birthday party, both of which were brilliant fun.

Sunday morning boasted my hostess's 3 year-old nephew banging the truck hammer up and down the hallway from about eight in the morning. Having drunk Halo out of Bollinger the night before, this was not what my head needed. Nor was the Hollyoaks omnibus, inflicted upon me by my hostess who claimed that it was the perfect hangover television. She was wrong. Fuzzy-headed, I made my way up to a nice bar on Fountainbridge and had bloody maries, pints, eggs benedict and a lamb burger while sat on omfy couches with meandering chat. Then ciao to some pals and hello again to another, off to the cinema and then, finally, back to the country for warm fires and affectionate cats.

So a pretty good weekend, really.