HURRAH. We trolled off to Edinburgh yesterday to do some hardcore bouldering.

The bouldering wall is a lot more Serious-Looking than the one at Alnwick, and I was a bit worried before we started because I thought that everyone else would be an expert and mock me if I got stuck up the wall, which hasn't happened yet, but is always a possibility. I got over it, though, and then it was LOADS OF FUN. I seem to be applying anti-anxiety techniques even to bouldering (like waiting until I know I'm calm before moving one of my limbs to somewhere else on the wall to avoid Getting in a Flap and falling off said wall), which is probably a good sign. Maybe I will tell my telephone therapist lady. But she will think I am mad. O wait. She already knows. That is the point.
We also trolled to Hendersons vegetarian restaurant, which did not disappoint, and then I dragged everyone to Lush so I could replenish my supply of shampoo. I should go to Edinburgh more often, it is very pretty. I want to go bouldering, and maybe climbing, there again, and the Wolfe Tones are playing there next month but I doubt I will find any fellow fans of Irish rebel music to come with me.
On a related note, my Wise Nexus has been showing me radio stations that are just for people like me! I've been listening to Irish pub radio and it's weird to recognise over half the songs that are played. I think listening to this station confirms my divorce from popular culture forever. I've also been thinking of reviving my tin whistle blog now that I have something that can record music more effectively than Ancient Laptop could, since all that will remain to be fixed will be the quality of my music, HOHOHO. But I cannot find any other tunes else to play, so for now I must mourn and grieve.
Today was wet enough to justify not doing much, but I could not resist having a nose at some nearby allotments.
This is an empty-looking plot that maybe I could have!
They looked amply large enough for my needs (TEEHEE) and some of them even had chickens and ducks and turkeys. I'm trying to pretend that's not the case, though, because that opens up a whole new can of worms in my head. I'm trying to limit the amount of Crazy Schemes I have, but I cannot help it. Maybe it's the sanity snacks and the increased serotonin levels. Anyway, I also wrote to someone today asking for further details of private allotments in the area. It's a less ideal option because private landlords can just kick you off whenever (I have been doing my homework) but who knows, we'll see what they say. I long to till the soil and toil in my own field. I'm not sure if this is some kind of ancestral, genetic need, or whether it's my inner Soviet, but it is very much a need.
In the evening, I created a lasagne that I am proud of:
I added my port and starboard lights to the picture for added pretentiousness. This meal shall feed me for approximately two more days, depending a bit on my greed. Luckily, I've decided that bouldering has burned ALL the calories so I can thus eat most of the things.