Compensation?

Today began grumpily, probably because of lack of sleep - I went to bed too late, and realised after I'd been reading for a bit that I wasn't at all sleepy but it was well after 1am. See that fatal move when you think you'll just try putting the light out and it doesn't help at all ...? I don't think I improved my mood one little bit by tackling the faintly squalid area of kitchen floor round the pedal bin - it involved kneeling down and scrubbing - but it certainly looked less disgraceful when I'd finished. Prufrock measured out his life in coffee spoons; I sometimes think I measure out mine in red onion skins, or shreds of papery garlic skin.

We were up at church before lunch, recording a wee Taize piece for the online service on Sunday. We try to have the same music as we do for the live service, not only because of suitability for the lectionary theme but also because we feel it keeps a link between those who have come back to worshipping in the building and those who aren't able to. As there will always be people in that latter category, I think online worship may be here to stay as an extra service.

In the afternoon I had a strenuous and largely solitary walk over the road at the south of the peninsula, from the Ardyne to Knockdow House and back. As Himself's back is still giving bothers, he only came a little way and then went back to the car while I pounded off. I was leaning on the drystone dyke at Knockdow when the message pinged through from my FitBit that I'd just walked the length of the Great Wall of China in the time that I've used the FitBit - 8,851 kilometres in under 4 years, since February 2018. I love these crazy satistics ...

My photo is of the wine we drank tonight. It comes from Lake Garda, where we should have been going in three weeks' time, and Himself thought it might cheer ... It's a lovely wine, but I have to confess I'd rather be actually going. Fingers crossed for next May - we've shunted the holiday yet again. I remarked on what a lovely place it was, and he pointed out that I was last there 60 years ago - a sobering thought. 

My extra tonight is a contribution to the conversation over on Wildwood's life, where the problems of baths has been looming recently. I think mine is perfect, though it is now 21 years old and wasn't bought with any thought of old age. Deep enough to wallow in, but shallow enough to let you use the leverage of your arms to facilitate getting out of, it has a ribby section at the tap end to give your feet traction.

It's also brilliant for falling asleep in ...