Improving the shining hour

The main event on today's calendar was my 6-weekly-only-this-time-it-was-seven visit to my hairdresser in Greenock - On The Other Side. Himself is not yet reconciled to the idea of my hopping on a bus to and from the ferry, so he came too, just in case the parking nearby proved problematic and he had to go elsewhere. Was it the knowledge that there was a huvtae in the day that woke me in the dark before 7am with the all-too-familiar stress feelings (in my case feeling sick - something that blighted my school mornings for years as a pupil)? It's strange how it's actually sorted by sitting up with a mug of tea looking at other blippers' entries before I tackle the news sites.

I have to say I've always found it ultimately relaxing when I'm actually having my hair cut; this time I'd been becoming increasingly aware of hair over bits of my face, tracing my irritation at it back to the time before I was 10, when I had pigtails and any stray hair meant they were coming undone. I caught up with many blips while the colour was cooking - no magazines, alas, since Covid struck - and emerged at the end looking much spikier and much more Pentecostal red. (My hairdresser promises to tell me if he thinks we need to tone it down ...)

A quick phone call later, Himself came to meet me at Tonino's, a relatively recent and hugely welcome Italian bistro next door to the hairdresser. It turned out that the fair-sized group of women and young children (all, I think, little girls) were (a) just leaving (b)all going to the pantomime and (c) all from Dunoon, all filing past us with various salutations, expressions of surprise at seeing us there, remarks that we'd not seen each other for years. Thereafter, it was peaceful. We chose to skip "proper" lunch as it was almost 2pm, settling instead for hot berry crumble and excellent coffee. Himself added a blob of ice cream, some of which I pinched. 

Tonino's is a lovely place - the music is just right, and even in the main street in Greenock it has a real Italian ambience. The photos down the right of the collage are of the crumble and of the cafe counter just before we left. On the left hand side is the head where I was sitting waiting for my hair chair to be cleaned before I sat on it; the owner - who cuts my hair - is married to an artist, and her talent for shop displays is very apparent. 

We managed to fit in a quick walk when we got back home - just down the road at Innellan, looking at the pink clouds in the sunset and a jet, high overhead, its fuselage and vapour trail pink and gleaming. It reminded me of a moment in Golding's Lord of the Flies, but it was a cargo plane from Chicago heading for Germany.

A good day, even as Europe convulses again at the march of Covid and the Westminster government plunges to new depths of mismanagement. And that, my friends, is the polite version.