Home turf

It's not quite 7pm, and I'm making an effort. Last night I was so late in bed after our lovely day, and woke again at 6.30 after far too little sleep, for which I've been suffering all day. These days I'm becoming aware that lovely days have their consequences ...

It was glorious again, up to 20ºC in the late afternoon which has more cloud visible than yesterday but is still sunny and lovely. As I sit in my study I can see another huge cruise ship, the Regal Princess, gleaming white as she sails past McInroy's Point, where I can't see any of the Western Ferries but assume they're keeping out of her way. I can imagine passengers thinking they've hit it lucky with the weather. I took advantage of said weather to strip the bed, wash all the sheets, remove the winter duvet and air the summer one before putting it on the bed - for once simply taking the sheets off the line and putting them back on because they smell lovely. 

A phone call in the morning unexpectedly got me a doctor's appointment at midday - I was expecting a phone consultation, as it was about the relationship between my regular meds and dry eyes. I realise I've been on some of these things for so long that none of the current staff of our surgery were involved in the prescription of any of them. Anyway, we're going to try changing one to see if it helps. While I was out I collected the prescription, visited the optician and went to the shop for the coriander which mysteriously didn't make it home yesterday.

I also bought the local paper, through whose splash headline I learned what I think we already suspected: there are now no NHS dental practices in Dunoon or surroundings, our own dentist having retired and sold the practice to a private company who specialise in  doing just this. This time it was Himself that made the phone call to set up whatever we need to do to ensure regular attention - traipsing over to Paisley or whatever for free treatment just isn't on. I'll just need to be careful with my teeth. Meanwhile I was engaged in a Zoom meeting of a church committee - we had to sign back in again as none of us had the paid version, so we all just vanished after 45 minutes with things left unsaid. We sorted it. 

Himself then went to church to practise and I attacked the dandelions and other horrors at the very front of the house, and retreated, exhausted, after about  45 minutes. When Himself turned up and asked if I wanted to go a run through my sing for Sunday, I went happily enough and found that my singing had vanished down the tubes with my energy. I never sing flat ...

And that, O Best Beloved, is why I'm blipping before dinner (which Himself is making). My only photo is of our own wee church this evening, taken from the graveyard. You have to people it with an eloquent blackbird and the cheeps of a few sparrows. Had I not used this, I was going to re-date one of yesterday's photos of the Cathedral grounds, but this saves me. 

Oh - one more thing I've done: I've checked in for my flight next week. I don't think LoganAir make it very easy ...