I miss you.
I miss your enormous hills and cliffs in the center of town.
I miss walking for hours through your wild flowers.
I miss that wind, threatening to blow me down the 45 minutes it took me to get to the top.
I miss your stone.
I miss your warmth.
I miss the drama.
I miss Portobello.
I miss walking past the garden where all the dogs roam free.
I miss walking along the beach where all the dogs roam free.
I miss explaining how I like an americano.
“More coffee, less water.”
“You want a long black.”
I miss the long black, where the water goes first then the coffee on top.
I do not miss your croissants.
I had one, and that was enough.
I miss your macaroni pie,
Your “man” chips.
I miss your tea,
And that coozy that holds the tea.
I miss your beans, sausage, fried eggs.
Your enormous breakfast sandwiches that seem to interrupt both lunch and dinner.
I miss Bross Bagels.
I miss Larah, Marc, Dood, Andrew, Ann, Kate, Piper, Shauna, Cal, Red, Ever, (the other one), Bear, Peter and Lindsay, Rachel and Joanna, Hope.
I miss the guys behind the ball at Surgeon’s Hall.
I miss seeing shows ANY time I want.
I miss the cold air.
The double-decker buses.
I miss performing 6 days a week.
I miss flyering.*
Even you, sir.
Who when I said “Last chance to see House of Cards Actor ‘Elan Zafir’ in his solo show, The Unaccompanied Minor, you replied “Oh, what a shame.”
But you didn’t really mean it. You didn’t mean it as a shame. You meant it sarcastically. No, that was not lost on me.
I even miss you, too.
I miss North Berwick.
The hill I never got to climb.
The cheese shop I didn’t get to eat at.
I miss the Highlands.
The distilleries I didn’t go to.
The Munro’s I didn’t climb.
I miss Three Sisters and the waterfall.
I miss Glencoe and the motorcyclists.
I miss the soup, the fish and chips.
I miss the sky.
*(Apparently, I have made the act of handing out flyers — a verb. Computers don’t have that information yet… wait till upgrade.