PENNY LANCASTER (Mrs Rod Stewart if you prefer) was saying – and I hang on to her every word – that she's spent a year sifting through 2000 wedding photographs to compile an album that she could send to each of their guests. Timed to arrive on their doorstep on the first anniversary.
"It means I've had a constant reminder of our wedding, which has been lovely," coos Penny. True to her word, an album arrived on time at the home of South Leith Kirk's minister Ian Gilmour, who officiated at the wedding. Ian picked it up along with t
he milk and rolls.
Ian says of his souvenir: "It's good to have. It covers the day nicely." It includes a couple of shots of the reverend. Could I have peek? "Not really, John. It's a keepsake and it's private."
Fair enough. I always respect a man of the cloth.
Highbrow music I rarely get to engage in the verbals with Alistair Darling in person, usually at Keith O'Brien's New Year soiree. The Cardinal does serve a mean sausage roll and a cute quiche.
Never any sweat for the Chancellor (he's a Londoner, you know) to get there, he lives but a block or two away when he's not in Downing street, getting on the nation's threepenny bits.
Darling, you'll have sussed, is never going to be life and soul at these drinkypoos. Never going to let his eyebrows down, rented from the Groucho Marx Estate.
Just a pity that he couldn't be up here for Leonard Cohen. Al's a big Cohen fan and simply couldn't make his Castle concert, otherwise you'd be reading here, enthralled, about our latest sausage roll-less encounter. I could have picked him out easily in the crowd.
While Al never took Manhattan there's every chance he took your pension. The job does appear to be getting to him. By the day.
More rhubarb Having encouraged irregular readers to grow their own rhubarb (they'll be regular after the first crop), I have some requests for additional gardening hints. Lonely of Liberton EH16 wonders how she can stop cats peeing in her garden.
Lady, you should find Silent Roar (pellets soaked in lion dung) will deter the moggies who have your lettuce limp. If that doesn't work, try a Rottweiler.
The full article contains 388 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
