Mug's game

It's been almost as cloudless a day as it was yesterday - almost, as there was a tiny wee sliver of cloud over Mull in an almost perfect blue sky. What does the song say? 'Just a perfect day, drink sangria in the park'. But the park's closed! Well there you go then!

It was so warm sitting out on the deck after lunch that Mrs M decided to stay there so I set off for a walk, saying I'd be back in an hour and a half. (Shh!) As it happened I was away for three hours due to spending a great deal of time talking to people. One was someone I speak to occasionally about planning matters, another was a man who has a nice garden and two dogs, and the third was an old gentleman sitting at the door of his hut in Port Beag, the original 'Little Bay' of Oban, which was given to the fishermen of the town years ago as a place to mend their boats. Half of it was taken away years ago as a base for the lifeboat, but all the old sheds remain on the other half.

Tam was drinking a mug of tea and we got talking. He is a retired lighthouse keeper and told me many lovely stories of his life in numerous lighthouses around the Scottish coast. As he spoke he gradually tilted his mug and unfortunately a lot of his tea was lost - it was probably cold anyway by the time I tore myself away! I've put on a belated extra showing the huts - you can just make out Tam on the left.

Quote of the day:

Daniel Farson, 'Never a Normal Man.' - "A child can cope with difficult truth more easily than subterfuge."