On our way to the charity shops, we happened onto a little market, which was fun to browse.
I saw one guy's stand selling rapeseed oil, saying it was actually healthier than olive oil. I've done a bit of reading and turns out instead of calling it 'grapeseed' in the US, it's now called canola and cold pressed canola is the hottest new thing.
Personally, I don't stress over this stuff. I've been buying vegetable oil (100% rapeseed) for several years now, finding it at about £1 a litre. I also get olive oil, but save it for salads or couscous. I didn't check the guy's stand out; I assumed his prices would be higher than my supermarket. Other things on offer were bread, meat, pies, music, fish and wild game. It was a fun place.
There were, indeed, a load of charity shops in Stockbridge. A few looked quite upscale, with all matching wooden hangers and fresh decor. Another had books in their window display all with 'fashionista' in the title, or something about clothes, which I thought clever. At the second or third shop I found myself standing next to Johnny, Sarah's boyfriend. It seemed the right time to give him a sincere apology that he'd got swept up into this thrifting thing; I know most men hate to shop. He just smiled and said while he'd formerly been in that camp, he was now a convert, having found some nice dress shirts in a charity shop. He said he thought it was fun. So, while I won't say he quite walks on water, he was easy to like.
I bought a small ceramic cachepot. I think I called it a 'clochepot' at the time, but that was wrong. Bill, having got so much pleasure from a cream coloured jacket thrifted several years earlier, was seeking a replacement. He bought one, but I'm not a fan of pointy revers and top-stitching; I can see the attractions of the pink, white and grey stripped silk lining though. (He's just gone out the door wearing it).
Bill and I were staying at a B&B in a large Georgian house near Sarah's flat, which she shares with a roommate who was already in the flat, but is not the owner.
Renting rooms in houses and flats in Britain is done differently to how I've ever seen in the US. I never shared a house with anyone I didn't know well, until coming to Britain.
People here do it all the time. Sarah's new flat is lovely and modern and nearer to her work, so she's well pleased with it. Our B&B had an amazing back garden and I could spy down on neighbouring gardens as well.
I admit to being nosy, though I prefer to label it 'taking an interest'; I share these photos just in case you, too, like to take an interest.
The next day we drove down to Morningside, as it was on our way home.
I think I bought a velvet scarf, in a red 1960's print, but that might be about it.
Bill ran short of enthusiasm about half way through and given what I know now, I'd stick with Stockbridge if I had limited time.
|Wild lupin on the highway.|
All in all, it was a great weekend. It was lovely to catch up with Sarah and see her enjoying her life. I feel lucky to live reasonably near to Edinburgh and I'm sure we will look forward to our next visit.