Spent a pleasant day yesterday in Dundee (no, really), visiting Boy 2 (of 3) in his new student flat.
Met up for lunch at Dundee Contemporary Arts (DCA), which is a fine place for a bite to eat (Harissa spiced turkey burger in warm ciabatta – mmmm), and is where the beautiful people of Dundee appear to congregate. Well, I once saw Lorraine Kelly there. What were you expecting? Paul Sturrock?
Bit of a wander round the town, and then off to "halls" to drop off some stuff and have a nosey round. Not bad. A decent enough room, with a private shower bigger than ours at home, and one of ten on the floor with common kitchen, etc. I say common, but I mean messy.
He seems to be doing fine and getting on with his roomies too. One of the girls seems to have appointed herself a kind of den mother. This manifests itself in the shape of buying a large stock of multi-coloured post-it notes, and using them to name everything in the flat.
By which I do not mean "David’s coffee", "Bruce’s milk", "Alice’s corn flakes", etc. No, no, no. That would be far too easy.
I mean everything. So, there is a radiator called Helga, the kitchen ceiling is known as Donald, and one of the two parking cones acquired to date goes by the moniker Kate Beckinsale.
Well, I suppose it’s all good fun and games, but I do worry that by Xmas they will all have fallen out and nobody will be speaking to anybody else.
Except, of course, to Jonas. The bit of roof overhanging the kitchen window.