Waiting to be read

I've been at home all day. There was a lot to do this morning and poor Mum was not too well after a large dose of antibiotic last night. She picked up as the day went on.

Robert (son of one of Mum's cousins) and his wife (another) Marjorie came to see us this afternoon. They are very good at keeping in touch. Robert is also the person who is tracing his family tree and that sometimes includes our family tree too.

We spent the afternoon chatting and catching up.

The wind is now raging around the place. At times it is unnervingly noisy and the roof is shaking (or so it seems). 

I needed a blip and cast my eyes around, alighting on this pile of books, all waiting to be read. I have started The Northumbrians and dipped in and out of the Emergency Poet (a good selection of old and new in here).

The postcard is a print of the work of Angie Lewin. The other Marjorie (not today's) gave me a book of her postcards for Christmas and I love them. Every few weeks I am going to change the card on view on my mantelpiece. This one is Wooden Dish with Uist pebbles.