Respite

We were promised threatened with disruptive snow for this morning, but in fact all we saw were some glimpses of white hills through the all-pervading grey and drizzle. It was through this that I took myself out to Studio 18 on the High Road to the Pilates class I missed out on last week. I felt about 100 years old when I arrived, but the studio was warm, there were only half a dozen of us today, and we laughed so much towards the end of the session that all our poise and control and core strength went out the window, replaced by the equally fabulous endorphins generated by the kind of uncontrollable mirth I recall from my own schooldays. Fair sorted the day, that did!

I had to shop in the sadly depleted supermarket - though why they never have the right Orange Juice with Extra Juicy Bits on a Monday is beyond me. Lunch was late and followed by a real old-lady sleep - but neither of us felt happy with just letting the day go, and out we went. Almost all the shops were closed or closing (at not quite 5pm) but we found the Health Shop open and then headed down to West Bay, where I was rewarded with this blip of the different tree silhouettes against the suddenly and surprisingly beautiful sky. All the seaweed had been removed from the prom, back onto the sand; all the beach had been swept back where it belonged, and the sea was so calm that it could barely summon up a ripple. This on a day when the ferries had gone off earlier ...

It was really cold, and my hand carrying the messages was frozen. My tiny hand ...

And yes, I mean "messages". I'm from Glasgow.