Running out ...

What is a blipper to do when she sits poised above the keyboard and can't think of a title for a blip? Today was the usual mixture of Sunday activity (minus the Sunday paper, as we've given up going to shops for a bit - especially the supermarket) and the sense of not actually doing anything. Online church had a bit of variety, in that a lay leader from our sister congregation on Bute led it today; there were 51 people in the online congregation and it was good, as far as online worship goes. We had virtual coffee with our friends, also good but not as good as having them there for the actual coffee. 

And having told everyone it was going to rain later, we allowed ourselves to get out too late to miss the rain. We had a four mile or so walk and were soaked for the last mile with rain approaching over the Kyles of Bute and the fields of the farmland at Ardyne. We'd looked at the bleak winter lake in the grounds of Knockdow House (now owned by Russians) and seen the skeleton of a sheep sunk in mud at the roadside. The picture is of a spectacular bog on the ground above the gorge of the Ardyne burn. I haven't a clue what makes the mud so lurid or the grass so green, but after all the rain it was a sizeable feature.

This evening I've had the strange experience of being contacted through the church website by someone in California whose mother was born in the same year as me and in the same nursing home, as it was back then - I had my own first baby in it too, when it was a Hospital for Women. It's closed now. She found my name online because I'd written about it, I think in the blog I created from my father's wartime letters. Isn't the internet amazing?