The word for "weekend" is "pub".

Friday was, of course, the pub. Mainly this was with Sandy. Bobby was apparently due to come along too, but as we abandoned the Doctor's as a bad idea when Sandy realised it was full of people he used to work with, we don't know whether he made it. So we went to the Hoose, bumping into AJW on the way and corakaskia there.

Saturday involved a brief trip to get some stuff from the shops, and then meeting more people in a pub. My brother, Dave Nelson, actionreplay and mxhaunted, specifically, with a side order of the usual Saturday night crowd. There were some drunken rugby songs early on, but the "singers" left. Later there was some rather better singing from some people who actually could.

On Sunday morning Peter came round to pick up a letter and have a cup of tea, then I went off up Calton Hill to see akicif about torch-related things. There were seven of us plus a baby in the end, and it was fairly windy. The sun went in after a bit, too, so it wasn't as pleasant a day it had looked likely. We walked round the top of the hill until about three, then left. A whole mob of red men were there, including Diana again, and some White Women, including Neal. The procession follows a longer and more involved route than it did in the days when I used to go every year, but (in daylight, at least) it doesn't seem too hard to follow. The boat-burning in December has left a lot of rubbish at that spot on the hill by the trig post where the bonfire is. Not just scraps of wood, but nails, bits of scorched metal, and even some glass and tile. Someone, of course, should tidy it up, and ideally it would be the company who made the mess, but the likelihood of that's pretty low.

After leaving the hill, Steve and I met Alison in . . . guess where [1]. . . and after a few hours went to get some Chinese food in a place in that new cinema-mall-thing at the top of Leith Walk. The conversation was excellent. After that, Mather's (East end version) for one last pint then home to pick stuff up for Neon.

I was a bit tired by this point, and didn't stay until the end. I didn't talk to more than two or three people anyway, so I wouldn't have gained much by staying. I did dig another bone fragment from the wisdom-tooth hole. This one wasn't bigger than a grain of sand, though.

This morning I'm tired, as I'm not really entirely over the cold and wasn't breathing easily during the night.

[1]A pub. Guildford Arms, in particular. Full of Rugby fans (both persuasions) but we lurked at the back out of sight. Oddly. Donnla and Miles walked in while we were there. I suppose this shouldn't seem strange, but actually it does.
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Singing. Pub. I guess the Welsh were in town. I know the Welsh won. Variety is the spice of life :)
They didn't win, they walked all over us. That's fine, though, I'm sure. It's not the winning that matters, it's the being taken apart.

Actually I believe they are coached by New Zealanders, or something like that. Dangerous ;)
I guess it was there. I don't remember what it was called. We wolfed our food to get out before the price rose. Most inelegant, but quite filling. The batter things were, indeed, almost all batter and very little thing, but they were at least plentiful.
Hey d'you fancy poker next Sat evening at mine? there is an emergent Plan!
No, that's ::my:: cat.

(OK, Abigor's cat really, but I'm Kya's step-dad, administerer of insulin, provider of nummies, and supplier of lap - in fact she's hanging over my right arm as I type this, which makes it a bit of a challenge.)
So I guess "maiow" translates into English as "We are all individuals"?
arrrrrrrh. sweet. My wee laddy is curled up here next to me in his furry 'basket' thingy. His forearm draped over his nose. so cute.
£5 limit :-) Winner takes some multiple thereof, depending how many play..