It was wet and grey. It was not a morning to enjoy a walk through Edinburgh, dragging a wheeled suitcase down from The Mound, across Princes Street and up to Starfleet . This was a morning for a taxi... and a fifteen minute chat about the state of Scottish football and the resurgence of Hearts (in the taxi driver's dreams!).
An hour or so of planning and feed the all devouring monster that is Project Management was followed by another taxi down to the client's offices and a further session feeding the PM beast. Finally, GF was able to get on with some of his own work and finish interviewing several candidates to work on the programme. Looks like we will have a strong team once everyone is on board, but in the interim we are still managing to meet all of our interim deadlines and seem to be well respected by those for whom we are working.
Dreadful taxi ride to the airport - traffic was the worst that the Gorse Fox has experienced in Edinburgh - and the usual 20-25 minute ride took an hour. This was not a problem for the Gorse Fox, but it was a bit touch and go for one of his colleagues who was booked on an earlier flight. In the end we made it to the airport and he made it to flight by the skin of his teeth.
Meanwhile, back in Sussex the Silver Vixen was getting the needle. Quiet literally as she managed to manoeuvre her fabric under the sewing machine in such a way as to allow the machine to punch the needle right through her finger. Remaining calm she undid the needle from the machine and phoned Urban-cub who was on her way back from work, and able to take her to Worthing Hospital.
Needle and thread (yes it still had the thread stitched through the finger) safely removed, and finger bandaged, GF thinks she was more annoyed by the fact it was one of her good needles, than she was discomforted by the incident itself. By the time GF got home from Edinburgh the drama was over and all was calm.