Sometimes on the bus you hear things that just can't be so but they are no so easy to be forgotten like the time I heard two ne'er do wells sitting behind me discussing the state of their wants and needs and finances to pay for both of these needs must and all that and neither one of these was named Chuck E but they weren't good fer nothin's not really they were just telling it the way it is and begging to be heard they agreed with each other pants down to their knees sporting Calvin Klein boxers and miscellaneous baseball player bling they agreed that they were patrollin' chicks but there weren't any on the bus or in the neighbourhood either the girls were working fast food about which my step-daughter says there is no such thing especially when you're hungry or somebody is expecting you to work miracles barista-ing at 2C or Second Cup for those who don't like Tim's and who know that Timothy's never ...

If you stayed at Villa Nina Guest House in Leamington Terrace--and slept under the monkey puzzle tree, or were near enough to smell the McEwan's mash on brewing day, or went to the Edinburgh Booker cash and carry for a flat of eggs or a tin of sweets, or crossed the Bruntsfield Links (where nobody ever plays golf but some occasionally engage in medieval swordplay), or ducked under the whale's jawbone arch when exiting Middle Meadow Walk you met Dr Spiegeli. It's not that he was actually in all of those places all the time, but his sense of humour was as ubiquitous as porridge.  And to understand him you need to understand real Scottish oatmeal--not that he served it in his B&B, but his spirit was pervasive like the porridge, and his laugh was contagious and his smile wicked and bewitching and infectious.  Now it's time to remember some aspects of Dr Spegeli. Pinhead and Aga cookers and spurtle sticks When you are going to make a good Scottish porr...