A rôle...

I'm back to my midnight ramblings, with the usual silence replaced by the raucous sounds of a party next door - in other words, on the other side of a party wall, the bane of terrace living. It doesn't happen often, but right now there's much incoherent yelling which suggests their young are with them. Mercifully we don't sleep in this room ...

The day began in the same quiet, strangely bright grey light of yesterday evening - my extra photo shows this morning's cruise ship, Spirit of Discovery, rounding the point to head into the berth at Greenock terminal. Since restrictions eased, we've had a ship a day passing morning and evening; I picture bemused passengers getting off for a day ... in Greenock?  By lunchtime, however, it was growing breezy, and in the late afternoon the rain began while we were having a restorative walk in Benmore. By the time we were passing the pond, it was coming down in stair-rods (remember stair rods? We still have a bundle in the cupboard) and only the ducks were to be seen. You may be able to make them out in the photo above - Mr & Mrs Mallard beyond the sea of yellow as the ground-cover plants turn to gold. Autumn has well and truly started, and the colours are beginning to glow.

Finding it quite hard to maintain the cheer that I fear it may be my destiny to come up with - not only have we lost a friend to Covid, but my bestie's man as well as her son and his husband have all caught it, meaning that despite her continuing negative status we feel a bit inhibited. In addition to that, my younger grandson has broken his arm ... and I find myself coming up with positive thoughts despite my own inner gloom. A grandma's rôle in life?

Now someone next door has started ululating like the sound-track to a black and white Western. Time for bed. Remember Zebedee?