Another Sunday

It seems as if the Time Machine is speeding up - I can barely believe that's another Sunday come and gone. I have a horrid feeling that this Sunday may be distinguished from others as the day another super spreader event occurred, this time in Glasgow, as all the gormless Rangers fans congregated in George Square to let off flares and drink for hours on the back of whatever match their team had just won. I'm glad I no longer live in Glasgow; if tiered restrictions are reintroduced we'll maybe be allowed to drive round the city to get to the east ...

Otherwise, the day zipped past as usual: zoom church, Whereby coffee with friends, lunch (some splendid Pimientos al Padròn), doze over book, strenuous walk (realising that peppers, be they never so delicious, are not entirely sustaining), dinner, doze over telly. Oh, and some Italian. Fingers crossed the three people below me in the league don't work their socks off in the next ten minutes so that I end up being demoted.

I have to get over the idea that my life depends on having a walk every single day. I have other things I want to get on with, and ideally I should be happy on a day of dubious weather simply to get on with it and forget the exercise. However, today's walk in Glen Massan brought this one photo of some golden catkins, looking like tassels of gold hanging beside the road.

Don't half bring on the allergies, catkins ...