Triple busy of late, it’s always like that in the run up to a holiday, or maybe it isn’t, we just perceive the contrast more keenly.

Yesterday we went to Callum’s second birthday party, and such was the excitement that I didn’t manage to catch any really good pictures of him.   There was lots of running around, ripping open of cards and gifts, and a beautiful fire engine cake made by Fiona.  It was great to be there, to share in the occasion and to blether with family.

This morning I opened the blinds to a glorious sunrise over The Binn at Burntisland, gone in seconds but for once the camera was in the same room as me and had powered up batteries in it.

We went to see several festival shows this year, as quasi-Edinburghers we like to think that the vibe is unique and it’s certainly 24/7 full on.  One comedian (that being his job, it’s not a random insult) whose name eludes me but was on a news review panel for an AI* gig mentioned that last year he stayed over after the festival.  “Eighteen hours later it was as if it never happened…”   Aye, we’ll have the city back now, thank you.

Birds have been largely absent from the garden as there must be a surplus of proper food available in the fields and hedgerows.  Instead we have a plethora of slugs and their quaint habits, somehow I do not envisage developing quite the same rapport with these interesting creatures and actually I think it is frankly impolite to use our front drive as a honeymoon suite.   Still, when you read what they go through to procreate, a teensy weensy bit of sympathy is elicited.  This is immediately dissipated when I find them chomping down on my surfinias or the birdy food though, and into the brown bin they go**.

In amongst all this I have been the grateful recipient of a digital hearing aid, fitted by Amy the Audiologist.  It has been calibrated to amplify only the sounds my left ear fails on, and now I can hear new stuff like

• the boys behind me at work discussing football
• little children on the bus
• big children on the bus
• phone conversations on the train
• train announcements that last for seven minutes

seriously though, it’s a genuine boon and I am proud that the NHS is still able to deliver in this way.

I’m going back to my new anthology of lunar poems now, edited by the poet laureate Carol Ann Duffy, acquired at the Edinburgh Book Fest.

*Amnesty International

**this being the garden waste bin that’s not the cruel fate it might seem.