Five and a Half Eggs

It is a bit discombobulating to be home again to the old familiar in a small house with only me in it.

Two of the biggest misses apart from the company are the sea at the foot of the road and the fire to sit beside in the evening. Radiators don’t compete with a living flame

I have blipped the eggs I was presented with as I left Cullen. I’m not sure if the tiny one is actually a hen’s egg , but I’ll no doubt find out sooner or later.
I also came home with carrots and onions freshly picked and they have been made into a vegetable stew already.

It’s been an aimless day for me but I was goaded into severely pruning the vine type bush that had been blown off the house wall in the wind. I managed to tie it up again after a fashion before giving it a short back and sides .

I produced a winning smile for the gardeners cutting the grass when I asked if they could take away all the prunings. In reality, it was probably not the smile but the age difference that was effective.