this could all be a dream

On my way to the Polish shop for coffee and kapusta.

Behind me, as I was taking this photo, is a bakery. I once met a couple in Buxted, Sussex, who were walking their dog, and when we got talking and they found out where I lived, they told me how they always stop in Dumfries on their way to holiday in the Highlands, and they buy several "Geo" loaves from this bakery. They stop again on the way home and buy another 10 loaves to put in their freezer. The best bread in the world, they said..I haven't tried it yet. Anyway...in front of this bakery is a bench, and on the bench, a man was fast asleep, his right arm pillowing his head and his left hand clutching a half empty bottle of Buckfast. I looked at him for quite a long time - his deep sleep and his ease of posture and the way the wine was still upright. I would have liked to photograph him, but it didn't feel right.

This evening a politician knocked on our door. It's the first time in 25 years that this has happened. D stopped his painting to come downstairs and we stood on the doorstep and talked about all the things that need putting right. The council elections are on May 5th, so there is still time for the other candidates to come calling.

I took Jess for a swim in the river after tea; she had got very muddy while Joanna and I were drinking our tea in the woods. I have visitors coming tomorrow and Jess needs to be presentable. Of course there is plenty of time for her to get muddy again before then...