The new boy is named. After two false starts he is finally to be known as Charlie. I cannot tell if it will suit him. He is a fine boy though with big hands and feet. A boxer or a hillwalker or perhaps both. Only time will tell.
Following the Hibernian victory on Sunday life has been testing. My family has quite failed to resist the urge to gloat nor have my PEP workmates. Green and white is the colour code and I have been forced to bear a rash of electronic screensavers and ringtones which play 'When I wake up, then I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man that gets up next to you' or some such drivel. It will be unendurable if a second cup comes back to Leith in May.
Better news for my mother though. Tests have shown nothing more sinister than the effects of time (quite bad enough) and she will have to learn some forbearance. Patience and Betty is an oxymoron but I shall watch and learn - if I am lucky enough to live as long as she, I believe I will demonstrate similar impatience and cussedness - I will make my children pay for currently tormenting me. Perhaps I could sing Hearts songs all day...
Work lately has been dominated by PEP - it is a busy time - rapidly expanding yet simultaneously consolidating: my staff members are terrific as are the Board members: it coincides with elections which makes time management challenging. The brain is a remarkable instrument - the more I demand of it, the better it seems to work. I wish I could be as confident about other aspects of my body...
Tonight I attended a public meeting about the 32 bus: perhaps 30 people there - a quiet, low key affair. The outcome is more consultation and hopefully a change of heart in connection with the route. Tina Woolnough was in the audience. She spoke well even if she takes a populist approach. She can get away with some astonishingly naive statements because her sincerity shines through. I admire her guts even if I do not agree with much she says.
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