Contrasts

Another day of mild, dreary weather - apparently this airstream is coming all the way from Africa, but it's not much cop, is it? I know - if you live in the East you probably had sun and thought it was lovely. Ah well. I was up at the crack of whatever you think sparrows do in the early morning, and down at Morrison's in good time to shop before the multitudes. Actually I can't believe there are multitudes around here these days - I never see any. I gave one young man the evil eye - he was stacking vegetables with his mask holding his chin up - and gestured that it might be better over his nose. He complied. I don't know what imprecations he muttered and I don't care.

The rest of the day seemed stupidly busy - it was as much a question of timing as anything else. But I was determined that whatever happened I was going to have a walk of some kind, and dragged myself out of my chair after lunch to do one of these wretched circuits from the house. This one took me down to the shore in the middle of the West Bay promenade; I then walked north, cut up through the town, popped into the Co-op to buy bottled lemon juice of which there is a famine in Morrisons (hardly any masks being worn in there - I'll not be back for a while), and home in time to throw dinner together before going out again.

This was to the surgery for a check on the circulation in my feet. I've had strange sensations recently, as if the middle three toes on each foot were being treated for frostbite on somewhere daunting like K2 and suffering the agonies of returning circulation, so the doctor had ordered a test. This involved lying down in a darkened room for 15 minutes (really - except that it was just the curtained-off end of the nurse's surgery, with the lights off) and then having the cuff pumped up on first the arm and then the lower leg - a surprisingly painful manoeuvre. She first had to locate the relevant artery with a microphone - for a moment I thought I maybe had no arteries in my left foot as she couldn't find it - and the resulting sound reminded me of the later stages of pregnancy, when we could listen to the baby's heartbeat. Anyway, it was all normal, so I'm back to wondering if it's the new trainers ...

I gave my talk on Poetry and Faith on Zoom tonight - the one I originally prepared for Stornoway. The live audience is much easier than a virtual one, but as it was joined by people from Canada and England as well as a friend in Skye I shouldn't complain. Some great questions and feedback as well - I enjoyed it more than I'd expected. Feedback is all, really.

My photo is a tribute, if you like, to blipper Lady Findhorn, who goes wild swimming in The East. These two women were bobbing along in the waves with apparently great enjoyment and bright orange floats. Even at a distance, I could see how pink their shoulders were!

And now I'm dizzy with tiredness and can't even oblige the nagging Duolingo to do another bunch of Italian exercises to maintain my position. Tomorrow, as they say, is ... tomorrow.