Normality

It seems like several weeks since I felt normal life was possible - certainly before the October holiday. Today, however, was busy as well as being dry and quite sunny at times, and though I'm now totally knackered I enjoyed it hugely. It began with Himself going out after his porridge to have his booster jag, so that's us done: we just have to wait the fortnight before we can feel confident in the protection again. I didn't loiter, but actually made soup between breakfast and coffee time - I've become very lazy around breakfast recently.

Because it was lovely outside we tried to make the most of it and went, for the first time since the family was here, to Benmore Gardens. Despite the destructive effect of rain and wind, there was still glorious colour everywhere; I took the usual overkill of photos and was hard pressed to choose for this blip. So I've posted two - the main one of the pond, with a few brilliant red leaves providing the foreground, and the view of the far end of the giant redwood walk, where the hillside reveals itself and up which we were about to walk. We passed one couple on our way in, but the gardens are officially closed for the season and we felt we were reclaiming them again for our own. The downward path was filled with the overwhelming scent of ... Christmas: I have a feeling it may not have been the conifers that were the more obvious source but rather a variety of rhododendron. Whatever it was, it was almost like incense - quite amazing.

When we got home I made bread - a white in the machine for breakfast tomorrow, and a sourdough in the iron casserole (very delicious - I've just scoffed some with marmalade on one bit and honey on t'other) while simultaneously making pasta for dinner. This crazy timing - eating about 3.30pm - signifies that we're back in the winter timetable with choir, and that's where we were this evening.

We were two members short - one recovering from Covid, the other a GP who wasn't going to be able to escape her surgery in time - but the sound was lovely as we started on Christmas carols (choirs are allowed to think of Christmas in November). By the time we finished my own singing felt rather like playing the clarinet with a dodgy reed; I hope this is going to improve and won't prove to be the end of the beginning, or whatever ...

And rather joyously, a family tale: my younger granddaughter, to whom I gave my old iPhone the other week, suddenly erupted with multiple pings on the family chat group to the effect that we should listen to Smetana's Vltava because it was glorious ... there followed links to Spotify, so that we could hear what she was hearing, and a selfie of her enjoying it, and a crazy conversation about music. To say this pleased us would be an understatement ...

You can tell I'm still a tad high. At 00.28am. Quite absurd.