Purple prose?

I don't actually think I can do purple prose, but I couldn't resist the heather on the top of Benmore Gardens today, bursting out among the bright green of the mosses there. Mind you, I'm in danger of launching into an enthusiastic litany of thanksgiving for all the lovely comments on yesterday's Blipday, something I hadn't realised despite my being warned by Blip a few days earlier. Even then, they only said so many days, and as I'd had a blipday not long ago I thought it rather odd. Eleven years is quite a while, isn't it - I wouldn't mind going back and having them again! I remember when I started blipping I only knew one blipper, Feorlean, and started because I wanted to leave a comment on one of his entries; it was ages before I felt I actually had a rapport with anyone. And then I realised that ElspethAnne was somewhere relatively close, and we met, and she made recommendations, and... and ... And then Covid, and lockdown, and the importance of community became even more apparent. Anyway, thank you, everyone who left congratulations - this is a good space to be.

And what of today? Today found me phoning my hairdresser from my bed to make a last-minute appointment for tomorrow, as we had a relatively lazy start (I know - I have many of these, but Himself is less sloth-like). I tried a new cereal topper of nuts and fruit on my muesli - a present from my d-in-l - and wished, not for the first time, that we had a Marks and Spencer in Dunoon. This, I may say, is less likely now than ever: the town appears to be dying around us. I did my yoga after I'd washed up. I waged a furious attack on a further two enormous yellow slugs on the patio. After coffee I continued in the attack mode and tackled the secret corners of our bedroom and the en-suite; among the joys of living in a Victorian house are the dusty bits where plaster dust seeps down under the skirting, to say nothing of the filaments of spider-webs which appear everywhere right now, and the small caches of desiccated woodlice which I fear may be associated with the spiders themselves ... 

This left me feeling I'd had a total workout, but we decided fresh air was needed and that's how we came to be on top of Benmore Gardens in the late afternoon. Ten minutes after I took the photo above, the clouds we'd been eyeing swept down Glen Massan and engulfed us in rain, so that we were once more drookit by the time we got back to the car. I made pasta with a sauce of aubergine, half a courgette, some tomatoes, an onion, garlic ...and lots of grated pecorino. (Can you tell I just rootle around in the fridge on these occasions?) Anyway, it was good. I love the fat bucatini that Morrison's sells in its "best" range. 

So glad these children (and the adults) were rescued from that dangling cable car - I don't think I'll ever get Himself into one again!