The Fringe show is over and I have a week off work, so I have nothing to do except to go to a couple of Book Festival events and (possibly) finish the first draft of ‘The Four Seasons Quest’ which is now about 75% complete. When I say ‘nothing to do’ of course I am conveniently sweeping all the housework and gardening under the carpet, where it belongs.
By an annoying twist of fate, I’ve caught a horrible summer cold which made itself evident at some point during the second act of the last performance of the show, kept me awake half the night and is making me doubt whether to go to the Book Festival event I’ve got a ticket for this morning. I don’t want to cough and splutter through the whole thing. When I say ‘summer cold’ it’s actually very much more like autumn here than it was last week. Never mind mists and mellow fruitfulness, when we have to turn the heating back on in the evenings to prevent us from freezing to death in the night, it is definitely autumn. The alternative is to sleep surrounded by warm cats, which did in fact happen to me on the first of the cold nights. It is never quite as cosy and comfortable as it sounds, especially if the cat who likes to bite people’s feet is on the bed.
I don’t think people who live outside Edinburgh realise quite how tiring it is to cope with all the festivals, some of which overlap. There is a constant pressure not to just sit there but to do something, go to some of the 1,000s of Fringe shows, become more cultured and go to opera, appreciate science more at the Science Festival… all while trying to carry on with your daily life in a place that sometimes seems like one big entertainment venue.
I don’t even want to think about what it will be like if / when the giant panda at Edinburgh Zoo gives birth to twins.