On being retired, in August ...

I was struck today by the thought of how I'd feel if I were returning to work as a teacher right now. And for once, I'm not talking Covid _19 - I'm referring to the sudden advent of warmth and calm and ... summer, actually. It never bothered me as a pupil; I suppose I always benefitted from having parents who were teachers and therefore able to take the same extended holidays as us, so that when we returned to school for the Autumn term we'd not only been away (latterly abroad, and then to Arran) for the whole holiday, we also got the full 8 weeks and went back at the very end of this month. And the other factor was, I suppose, that I loved school, and was always keen to get back together with my friends (I attended Hillhead High, which in these days took pupils from all over Glasgow) and to the orchestra.

But to return to being stuck indoors all day in this weather? I'd find that tough. We were actually busy indoors this morning - Mr PB defrosted the freezer; I attacked a particularly awkward and therefore rather grubby bit of the kitchen. We were both worn out by the time we took our lunch into the garden and found that the sun was dissipating the cloud that had formed through the morning. Because of an appointment at an inconvenient time, we didn't get out for a walk until 5pm, and found ourselves on the beach at Toward in the very best bit of the day.

My blip was taken at 7pm from the shore road just south of Toward Primary school. The two boats apparently heading for a collision are the two Rothesay ferries, which pass each other halfway. The sea is a flat calm, the tide is almost fully in, there are some oystercatchers squawking in a hollow. The sun is still warm, though at 22ºC the temperature is entirely pleasant, and I've been paddling along the shore at the Ardyne. We're both beginning to feel hungry ...

And now I have to think about shopping tomorrow.