Smelling the roses

Lorraine up and off this morning. I struggled out of bed and walked down to the doctor's surgery to have my blood pressure taken at 8:30. I told the nice nurse I have white coat syndrome, and it would be high. It was high. So we took it again and it was higher. After a while she took it again. This time I pictured Lorraine's face and it fell twenty points. Still not ideal though, and will have a yearly check up with my doctor on Friday. Nice that imagining my lovely wife is calming.

Then to the non-ideologically sound Starbucks for a couple of hours, had a cup of tea and a small breakfast, and wrote an aesthetic manifesto. Then up to the gym. A man, possibly Brazilian, pelted after me to ask in broken English if I had left my phone in Starbucks. I hadn't, as it was the Japanese woman who was sitting next to me had plugged hers in under my table.  But an extraordinarily nice thing to do, as I was already 40 yards down the street.

To the gym, where I did another half hour on the cross trainer, and then walked home through Preston Park. Walked through the Rose Garden, which was beautiful and aromatic. Paused there to dip my nose into several flowers like a large bee.

Home and worked with Betty on some Edinburgh form filling, emailing, marketing and other business. A quiet evening in with Lorraine and Betty, who is increasingly excited about moving out with John in August.

Diet rather disrupted by pints yesterday, but there were no carbs in the evening tonight.

Below in the rose garden. The two painted figures in black and gold always intrigue.





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