Top ideas for the perfect girls night
At first I thought I was experiencing some kind of episode
LAST year it was the tent, this year it was the Pilgrimage.
Summer always brings curiosities to our door. I thought the strange occurences peaked last year when I came back from work to find a French man camping on a patch of grass right outside our house.
But, moseying around my garden last weekend, I heard the unmistakable sound of an American voice shouting about hell, fire and damnation.
At first I thought I was experiencing some kind of psychological episode. But I listened more intently and realised the voice was getting louder and it was real.
A megaphone was being very effectively employed to transmit a message of repent or burn that would have put the fear into a nun.
Things like this just don’t happen in the suburbs of Edinburgh, so, summoning all my courage, I stepped out on to the street to see for myself what was coming towards me. There were about 20 of them, some dressed normally, some in robes, others carrying flags, led by the American.
I couldn’t make sense of what was going on until the leader instructed his followers to “observe the wonder of nature around us, Pilgrims”. Aha. Whether they were heading to Cramond for an ice cream or Truckfest at Ingliston, I’m not sure, but they were certainly marching with purpose.
The drama didn’t end there. When I turned back into the garden I found Daisy dog waiting for me, optimistically holding a ball in her mouth. Then I noticed something on her left eyelid that I thought
at first could be a wee skin tag. The following day, the “tag” had grown. In a panic, I phoned the out-of-hours vet service looking for advice. The receptionist suggested I bring Daisy in so I asked how much an appointment would be on a Sunday. “£150” she replied, adding, “I mean it could be anything, a skin tag, a tumour, a tick.” And that was when the light came on in my brain. A tick. I looked up what to do online, grabbed a pair of tweezers and tried to remove the thing, helped by my 13-year-old son. But my hands were shaking and I was haunted by the thought of what happened to Gigi Hadid’s mum, Yolanda, whose terrible battle with Lyme disease – spread by ticks – was documented in the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. So I left it to my husband. He came back from B&Q to find me waiting, tweezers in hand and, to his credit, he plucked the beast out in an instant. Daisy has recovered. The tick was not so fortunate.