So, I’m
sitting at the bar of the Café Royal with a pint of Guinness , half a dozen
oysters, and a Colin Parsons Scotsman crossword. During the course of the
morning I have brief or extended conversation with a a variety of teachers,
journalists, petty criminals, and the occasional serious criminal. Around 2.30 I
step outside into the watery Edinburgh sunshine, smell the breweries and ……”oh,
that magic feeling – nowhere to go “
But that was
then – this is now. Memories tend to flood back when your nurse practitioner
has filled in a form, in writing, in black and white, officially, saying that
you are not expected to live for more than 6 months. Max. Everything is in
hand. Will, kids briefed, blue badge , wheelchair, non-funeral arranged. I
believe Mrs. OM has also booked her cruise for month 7. They even offered to
show me round the hospice, but I told them to fuck off – one has to maintain one’s standards.
Will this be
the last post ? Exciting, isn’t it.
Abraxas was
a good album that stood the test of time for me
