Teapot

I’m full of the cold in the morning, so I stay in bed while Claire goes out on exercise with the RNLI. She’s gone a long time, so eventually I put together a couple of Ikea chairs and eat whatever I can find in the house.

The task of the day is getting the washing machine up the three flights to the flat. We do manage it, but it’s a strain for our ageing frames and we decide not to attempt taking the old one down.

We manage a short walk along the coast in the dusk. Claire’s on call for the RNLI, so she’s not allowed more than 5 minutes away from the village.

A site of ancient, green static caravans huddle between the harbour and the bare coast. The path passes by them, sandwiched between their barbed-wire topped fence and the undulating railway barrier, until it emerges into a wilder situation.

Catherine cries off coming for dinner, so I decide to stay. Angus is coming round for the night and Hamish will be back too. Full house.