Positively bucolic

Today's resolution: try at least to sound positive ... It all began well, really, despite a night of rather too many dreams (possibly because I ate and drank too well yesterday at dinner) about a wooden house I was having built somewhere (I couldn't remember where, so that was a worry) and the concern that I had to pay for it and couldn't find the bill... You can see why I woke feeling grim and with the stiff neck of tension. Anyway, after that things could only improve and it was a beautiful, frosty morning without the snow that was more troublesome in The East. I cleared up, had two phone calls and coffee and then decided it was better to walk in daylight. So ...

Glen Massan again. After yesterday's louring seascape, a more bucolic scene of a favourite corner with an old mossy dyke, a twisted tree and the burn flowing past a corner. And because I'm so thrilled at getting the extras back for another year, the view at the top part of the glen with the snowy hills surrounding it, and a pair of absolutely delightful wee highland cattle, very sturdy and inquisitive. I think the black one may bleach his fringe ...We met our pals with their spaniels, but declined the suggestion of walking back together as they tend to walk like Ben Hur with his team of horses and we wanted to spend time looking and enjoying. 

In the middle of a late lunch the BBC fanfare on the phone told us we were back under lockdown for a month. It makes little difference to us, I suppose, except that the church is to close again. Tomorrow I'll check the Covid infection rate for Argyll and see how I feel about personal shopping - my shopping angel has already been texting. I had a look at Morrison's online and found that there seemed to be some key items (in my list at least) that weren't available, despite the fact that I buy them every week in the shop. I think if it seems too dicey for me to go for a bit, I'd prefer lovely Liz and her FaceTime consultations as she goes round!

Of course, the fact that our FM announced the measures mid-afternoon gave the hapless Johnson time to get his crib sheet ready and do the same in the evening. It's a cruel irony, is it not, that we have the most incompetent Westminster government in my lifetime just as we face the greatest challenges? I promised to be positive, I know, but ...There's a series of infants' books about various objects with the thread "That's not my ... ; it's too ..." You supply the words and stroke the page which contains a piece of fabric, or bristle or whatever. 

So: That's not MY Prime Minister; he's too ...  

Supply your own epithet. I'm being positive.