The worst thing about this picture...

Where do I begin?

So those of you who know the Greyfriars Bobby story will have worked out that Gail is in Edinburgh, and the observant amongst you will have noticed that I am not there.

Gail could of course have taken me to Edinburgh - after all we know I am an excellent traveller and a well behaved house guest - but she claims it would have been "inconvenient" as she was down for a couple of days with her Book Group, attending various Festival Fringe events.

Have you ever been called "INCONVENIENT"???!!!

What's more, it has come to my notice that one of the events the Book Group attended was a comedy show by Sara Pascoe, and this apparently included several references to Ms Pascoe's love of dogs... (including a routine about how her now ex boyfriend refused to let her have a puppy so she considered instead getting pregnant so she could then dress up the baby as dogs of increasing size, from chihuahua to St Bernard, as it grew. I guess you had to be there.)

Gail and friends also had lunch at a restaurant called 'Badger & Co', located in a house where Kenneth Grahame (author of Wind in the Willows) once lived. I would have enjoyed that too.

I am pleased to report Gail is now safely back home and even found time to take me for a nice riverside walk this afternoon, and although we saw neither Mole, nor Ratty nor Badger, all is well.

A misunderstanding about Siccar Point

Yesterday Gail announced she was going to Siccar Point.

Oh wow, how exciting, I said. Of course I shall be coming too? It has been such a long time since I went on a geological field trip, and it is the aspiration, surely, of every serious earth scientist, to visit the hallowed ground at Siccar Point where, in 1788,  Scottish pioneer of geology James Hutton, recognised the now famous unconformity as proof of his uniformitarian theory. Come on Gail, hurry up, it is a long drive down to Berwickshire. And don't forget to pack my hard hat. Look, here it is in the bag.

Imagine my disappointment to learn that 'Siccar Point' is also the name of some boring old energy company in Aberdeen and this was where Gail was attending a meeting. And that dogs are not welcome in their offices (although I would have done a fine job of hoovering up the left-over lunchtime sandwiches).

On the upside, Gail has promised that we really will go to visit James Hutton's most famous Scottish unconformity at some time the future.

I am hoping that when she says "some time" Gail is thinking human or even dog terms, and not in Deep (i.e. geological) Time, the concept first developed by our estimable Mr Hutton,

Siccar Point unconformity: Photo by dave souza - Own work, GFDL, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3831554

Birthday best behaviour

So on Sunday I wanted to help Human Granny unwrap her birthday presents, but Gail said HGY didn't need any assistance and if I wanted to show everyone what a good dog I am, I should just sit down and pose nicely for a birthday picture.

So that is what I did.

Nottingham morning routine

Well I've now been in Nottingham long enough to have established a regular morning walk. Perhaps you would like to join me?

Before heading down the road to Beeston lock, it is important to check there have been no overnight trespassers in Janet's wee front garden.

When we reach the canal, I like to inspect the houseboats, and contemplate an alternative life style.

The river Trent flows beside the canal here, and yesterday, when Gail was admiring the reflections of the willow trees on the far bank, I inadvertently stepped into to water that was deeper than anticipated and nearly had to be rescued. (Gail was too shaken to take any photos of my wet and muddy self).

To continue the circuit we cut through the grounds of the Nottingham Casuals rugby club. Human Grandad used to play for this club in the 1950s.

Just a few days ago Gail asked an old family friend, the wife of one of HGD's erstwhile rugby club pals, about the origin of the name 'Casuals'. The reply came back thus: "Well I don't think they took the game too seriously Gail, they were all a bit hopeless really, and mostly interested in the booze..." And then she went on the describe the pub on the edge of the Lace Market (in the days when that part of Nottingham was derelict not trendy) where the rugby players and the braver of their girlfriends congregated after the games, and how it always smelled of cat pee.

Those were the days...

Back to the walk. Finally, we return along the embankment on the other side of the canal.

Although this stretch is best avoided on Saturday mornings when the 'Park Run' fraternity meet.

It is, of course, a good place for making friends. And as Gail is always reminding me, Nottingham has long been famed for its surplus of pretty girls...

Well apparently our summer sojourn down in Nottingham comes to an end tomorrow when, after calling in to wish Human Granny Happy Birthday, we shall be setting off home to Scotland.

It's been fun.