Staggering through

I was walking alone for 30 minutes or so this afternoon, having one of these interesting internal dialogues that I thought I might air here - but of course I've clean forgotten what it was about. So instead I'll go with the usual recital of an everyday story of retired folk ...

First off, I was still tired when I got up. I almost turned over and went back to sleep, but for the niggling realisation that we had no bread unless I got up and started off a sourdough loaf. This, right enough, was for the morrow; today there was the heel of the last brown loaf and a handful of oatcakes. Got me up anyway. 

I added another couple of boxes to the growing pile of things I've ordered for presents. My fear is that I shall rest on my laurels and forget to wrap, send or even deliver something because I've been so efficient early on. 

We agreed that we really needed to make an effort and get out for a walk before it got dark today. I felt like a change of scene, so we left our car in my bestie's garden and headed off through the village of Blairmore. Himself turned back after a mile or so; I went on for possibly another mile to the end of the speed limit before turning. For a while, there was very little traffic on the road, and I walked to the Frankie Howerd sound of the eider ducks on Loch Long and the occasional sweet song from the woodland behind the houses. The air was perfumed by someone's wood fire and some still-green plant, and a slight drizzle seemed unworrying in the absurdly mild 13ºc temperatures as dusk thickened.

We finished off the afternoon with a cuppa and a blether round the kitchen table with our friend Rob - the bestie's away for the week - in which we set the entire education system of the country right before coming home for curry.

Blipping the view from our friends' garden as we left. I'm looking straight up the river to Glasgow, and the orange sky is not the sunset - I'm facing due east - but the lights of the city reflected in the clouds. The moon is just about to appear above the glow, and the palm trees are a dark reminder of our crazy climate. 

I think we need it colder now...