Mobbed by Crows

When you drop your oldest son off at the university where he expects to study for the next three years, you hope for a bright hopeful day and cheery surroundings.

When we arrived in Edinburgh with Pascoe and all his worldly goods, the sleet was driving in horizontally.  After an hour of searching in the aforementioned sleet, we were able to confirm that the person in charge of the keys for Pascoe’s accommodation hadn’t made it to work that day. 

Passing over the bit where Pascoe managed to get locked inside a deserted building and had to “squeeze out under a door” (his words) we eventually persuaded a nice administrator to don suitably sturdy outerwear, trek to the office and break in to get the keys for us.

When we reached it, the postgraduate accommodation looked as if it might be gorgeous when fully occupied and in sunshine.  But today, it was grey, deserted and windswept. 

We managed to expose each and every item of Pascoe’s belongings to water damage as we heaved them from the car to the flat.  As we finished, I cast around for a little cheer.  Noticing a large park at the bottom of the road, I said, “Nice that you’re so near a green space.”

“Ah yes,” said Pascoe, “I had to cross that park before, when I came up here searching for accommodation…  I got mobbed by black crows.”