Scorpio 12° (November 4)
Took the train to Edinburgh from King’s Cross yesterday met up with Aine, Flo and Jill at the Edinburgh Residences. Had a wee drink then hopped a cab to the Dog’s for dinner. I didn’t like it nearly as much as I did years ago. Completely unmemorable. A few glasses decent Monserat after an anemic Languedoc. Then back to the hotel, where the three had gin tonics (how?), for another glass of red then bed. Woke up to a full Scottish breakfast then immediately started assembling our costumes. Jill and Flo went to fetch the car—a giant white people carrier—from the airport. We piled in and set off. Aine is a lively chatterbox and kept the conversation going. I tried to fall asleep, determined to take a nap later. Went over the new bridge at the Firth of Forth or whatever it’s called. Arrived Aberfeldy in good time and had lunch at The Three Lemons, as is now tradition. Then a stroll where we found a lovely clothing shop of repurposed tweed and some makeup we needed for the party. Then to the Fortingall which is home to the oldest living tree, if not the oldest living thing, on Earth. I never did sleep. Stuffed myself into formalwear and got into costume. We looked great and ended up finalists—five out of two hundred—in the costume contest. Saw wonderful Jackie and Laurence and really spent a great deal of time with them at the party. LLB challenging as usual but I adore his quipping affection. Was a full moon. The party was of course incredible but slightly unnerving given the dystopian theme. Saw a guy in a mask that only revealed his mouth and I said: Is that Rob? Of course it was Rob Roth which was weird. How do you know Jo, I asked. I’m here with the band he responded. Then of course we know who that must be. Debbie Harry or Blondie. It was Blondie. Had some bonding moments with a few people including Emma Watson who was adorable. All the HP girls got up on stage and danced as Debby was singing. Party was long and fun and slightly squiffy. Discovered the oysters way too late. Didn’t win the costume bit. Don’t remember going to sleep.
Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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