Almost Dickensian

Both the German Christmas Market and the Edingburgh Christmas Market were hoping this am–all sorts of meat delicacies, frie sweets, wooden toys and ice skating on watery-topped ice unfolding to the raucous beats of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reigndeer” and the sedate and sentimental strains of carols played by a trumpet trio.

We walked through Dean Village and Stockbridge.  Along Comely Bank Street, a butcher shop was doing real land office business, the line stretching back around the block.  Hours later, we went back that way and though the line was shorter, it then included dogs waiting with their masters for th Christmas goose. (Carole, there will be pictures but I left my camera cable at home, dammit).

It feels wonderful to have no chores and so much walking space, especailly lanes with no car traffic.  We went through the botanical gardents late this afternoon, but the arboretum really doesn’t hold a candle to Boston’s.  The walk along the path by the Leith, on the other hand, seems to be several centuries before Dickens himself, although it’s not, given that it flows through  New Town.

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