Fallen flowers

I think I may be an hour ahead of my usual start-thinking-about-bed routine; I've just sat in front of the ten o'clock news and failed to stay conscious for more than the hellish situation in Mariupol. And when I woke up a few minutes ago I hadn't the least idea of what time it was or why ...

Totting up what I've done today perhaps gives the reason. This morning's Pilates class was really tough; for one thing, we had far less of the banter and hilarity that often consumes us at my end of the studio and instead concentrated with a rare ferocity on stretches and muscle tension, and that was before the "party piece" exercises that the teacher threw into the mix. 

I staggered in out of the chilly grey morning after this to drink coffee and do some Italian lessons and then it was lunchtime and Himself was back from his Pilates class. I think I fell asleep with the newspaper after that - the main reason I stopped teaching was that I kept finding it harder and harder to go back into school after lunch, let alone teach, because I'd fallen asleep in my lunch break. I was just remembering yesterday the words of one Frank Pignatelli, former Director of Education for Strathclyde, during an interview conducted by the future Editor of the Scotsman who at the time was a Sixth former at school: Just remember, every teacher in your school is like an actor who has to face up to six different audiences a day, five days a week. I loved it - but it's not a job for drowsy old ladies!

I scraped myself together in mid-afternoon and the pair of us walked the mile or so to the hardware store to order a set of patio furniture we'd seen when I was buying other stuff last week. It's being delivered on Friday; I hope my tortuous description of how to access our back lane hold good. When we returned from that outing we set to tidying up more of the leftover detritus from last week, as well as moving laden flower pots around the garden. (We have one of these wee trolleys like a mini version of the things we used to see station porters using. Very handy.) It grew chillier, and there were even a few spots of rain. Dinner was quick and easy and a great relief - and I've dozed ever since.

Blipping a tree we passed at Bogleha' Bowling Club (great name, eh?) with its carpet of blossom. Saturday's rain brought so many flowers to earth - another example of the way nature's rules ignore our wish to fix beauty for our own pleasure.

Stop philosophising now, woman and go to bed!