A long day

Today seems to have gone on for a long time. I imagine Her Maj might feel the same, or one of these soldiers lining The Mall today. (Important side issue: how do you cope for a loo if you're in a prized position beside the processional route and you suddenly have a dire need for a loo? Asking for a friend ...) But I suspect the length of today may have its roots in last night: I was so tired when I went to bed at 12.35am and then found sleep utterly impossible until well after 2am, mainly because of a racing brain.

The main news is not the Platinum Jubilee; it is that we still don't have a car nor, it would appear, the finance. It's as if all the pigeons being used to ferry bank business about are having a long Jubilee weekend, or some more mundane reason like a bank holiday - which of course it is. So today featured my washing the towels and hanging them out, and later going, at the ill-advised time of midday, for the weekly shop. Lord knows why I thought I'd not bother getting up early for this task - the supermarket was full of dozy couples getting in the way. My chief hate is the man who lingers after his wife, leaning on the trolley and moving at half a metre a fortnight ...

Much later we went out to Benmore Gardens, our first time since before Italy. We were late, so the only time we saw people was within minutes of our arrival, when a jolly community choir from somewhere in England was giving We are Marching laldy under a tree.By the time we came down, however, everyone had left and it was just us alone in the perfumed air with the birds - and a bold squirrel. This was a great moment: I had gone to look at the place where the feeders are, both empty at the end of the day, when a young red squirrel poured itself down the big tree, inspected the empty feed boxes and then headed straight for the wicker fence behind which I was lurking. Suddenly it appeared at the top, as close as that crow was yesterday, and the pair of us stared at each other - me not liking to reach for my phone - until it turned away, ran down my side of the fence,, and scampered up a tree. Joy.

Blipping a collage to show the changing light in of our view. The upper photo was taken at 12.40am, with the last of the sunset segueing into the first light of dawn in the magical way of this time of year. The lower photo was taken this evening, as the Firth of Clyde took on an almost Mediterranean air in the last of the sun. 

Now, was that a calm enough blip to lull me to sleep shortly? We'll see...