OF Mice And Men
Last tuesday saw Dodie, Percy, Lyovka and myself pressgang poor Sylwia into a trip to the Lyceum theatre. It had long previously been decided between us that our visits to such cultural venues were become too infrequent, and some action must needs be taken!
Lyovka appears bemused. Nothing new there...
Dodie wrangled us the loveliest seats. First balcony, slap in the middle and for Lyovik, Sylwia and myself, also at the front. The only problem came in the form of peril faced by those seated below, in the very probable scenario that I uppend the ice cream balanced a tad precariously on the ledge...
This my real reason for attendance. I have priorities.
Over the past few weeks I have been terrorising Scottish natives by turning up unexpectedly all over the place, under the pretence of the fabulous pursuit which is Rambling. This Sunday my attention was turned on 'Pebles & Surrounding Area'.
They had no warning. There was nowhere to run.
Roughly 30 miles away (or so I'm told), we were so high we could spy Edinburgh. And through a gap in the hills, across to Fife and the Lomond hills we scaled the previous week. The ascent was 680 metres. Oddly enough, I really feel it for the first 5 or so minutes, but after that it's mostly almost like walking over level ground. Our route took us all along a horseshoe-shaped ridge. I had prepacked cheese and tomato sandwiches. They were yummy.
Good thing I had prepacked them, actually. So Sunday was mother's day, therefore I reckoned I would get up niiiiiiiiice and early, in order to prepare everything and not have to rush. I had nearly, nearly been late to the Ramblers the week before, and was not planning to repeat this!
From the 'Trail' guide for Ramblers, I read the previous night 'B Walk... blah blah... 9.00am... blah...' Ok. It seemed reasonable to set the alarm for 8.20.
The following morning:
*Smiling unconcernedly, gets up, stretches, yawns, etc.*
"I know. I'll just double check the booklet, see that I haven't missed anything...."
Booklet: 'B Walk... blah blah... 8.30am... bl-'
I made it.
In Further News...
Following my epic excursion (which I began to appreciate properly after recovery from my nasty shock that morning), I hitched a lift into The Burgher from a kind (and very patient) fellow Rambler. I proceeded to terrorise P&S (or did they terrorise me? This does get awfully complicated.) for a number of hours.
As a unit we all decided to terrorise a studio, which worked well, since it meant that I could stop worrying about which of us were suppose to be the terrorise-(ors?ers?ists?) and terrorise-ees due to us all being able to terrorise an innocent third party together... but I digress.
There was a reason behind the madness this time being that Sylwia, in her capacity as a photographer, perhaps understandably seemed to fancy a spot of photography. I was to be a guinea pig. Or hamster, if you like.
Now if that doesn't look threatening to you, I don't know what does.
Then again, it could possibly be this. Whenever Papa looks this happy, you can be certain that something singularly terrible is going down.
... and finally a photo of myself, looking just as angelic as ever (although the halo does tend to help a bit).