What a difference a day ...

Well no. It wasn't the weather, especially not as the day went on. We were doing real Dunoon dreich, just as  the photo shows, though that's not why it's there. I'll come back to that in a tick. But I realised something about myself today - not that I'll be able to put it to good use all the time, but it's something to know. Yesterday felt so filled with stress that my front teeth ached from being pushed outward by my clenched lower jaw (try it - you'll feel what I mean), and it came back the moment my eyes were open - or maybe even before - this morning. 

But this is the interesting bit, for me anyway. I was involved in several different moments at church this morning: I read part of the readings for the lighting of the Advent candles (three this week, including the pink Gaudete candle) as well as actually lighting them; I preached the sermon; I sang the solo during the communion. And by the time I got started on the first reading I felt fine. I felt even more fine by the end of the service. Clearly I need to be involved in activity that involves some adrenaline. Bit late to go back to teaching ...

Church was followed by coffee chez nous with my pal, then a quick lunch, then a walk. Yesterday was clearly blighted by lack of exercise, so I thought I'd keep up the good work and get well and truly soaked in the increasingly serious rain that was now falling. We didn't go far - just down to the shore and along the West Bay and home round the back of town. But the photo? Well, the large white building halfway into the low cloud, the one with the red roof, is on the point of being demolished. In fact, demolition may start tomorrow, so this is possibly the last time it'll appear in any of my photos. It's the old Glenmorag Hotel, latterly beloved of coach parties who spent all their time in the grounds and never ventured into town. There was also a regular naturist group, with interesting encounters to be had in the Bishop's Glen. But it's been closed since the first lockdown and very poorly maintained even before that, and now it's undeniably decrepit. It's now been sold to developers from a local enterprise group who intend building the base station for the gondolas of a cable car to the top of Kilbride Hill. If I'm still alive when it all comes to fruition, I'll let you know. You can all pile over on the ferry and have a shot ...

I reflected this evening as I watched The Great Leader address the nation that it's really hard to take anything he says seriously - even when you know the situation is serious. I keep waiting for the grown-ups to come on and do the leadership thing. 

Stress? No wonder we get stressed!