Sunrise

Sorry - it's the same photo as I took yesterday, at almost the same time, but I was so smitten with the glory of the sunrise on the wee ferry as it headed for Dunoon that I knew right away this was going to be today's blip. As I closed the window again after taking it, I noticed the thin line of condensation on the foot of the glass - a sure sign of a chilly night. That chill stayed a feature of the day - it was 9ºC on the car thermometer at 2pm, though it rose a couple of degrees for an hour or so when the sun came out. I reckon it might be time to look out the winter duvet ...

In acknowledgement of the nip in the air - and of the fact that I'd boiled up the carcase of a chicken yesterday - I made one of my random soups for lunch, the first soup I've made since, I think, April. This one had chunks of squash (found in the freezer), onion, garlic, bit of bacon, the chicken that had floated free of the bones, chicken stock, Lebanese Spice Mix and a touch of smoked paprika. I had to thicken it with a couple of baby spuds and a handful of pasta, but it was strangely soothing. 

Mind you, this was a premature soothing as we had to head off immediately after lunch to have our double (flu + Covid Omicron) vaccinations at the Community Hospital up the road. They were advising us to have one in each arm so's we could tell which was giving trouble, if any, so all over Dunoon marriages will be in jeopardy as aged people lie on their backs, snoring horribly. (If you're interested, I feel vaguely flu-like tonight, with two increasingly painful arms, one of which was developing a swelling 6 hours ago; I've not looked since.

Having been told not to drive for 10 minutes or so, we sat in the car and decided that we needed a walk to propel the vaccine through our bodies and stop us succumbing to malaise, so we drove down the coast and walked out the Ardyne shore road and back. The mouth of the Ardyne Burn had become a sort of complicated delta under the pressure of the water rushing down on Saturday, a delta littered with branches and chunks of tree, but the field that always used to flood seems to have been cured by drainage and looked fine under a handsome rainbow. I'll stick a couple of photos in extras just to give variety.

Before getting dinner, I had to deal with a Triffid taking over our garden (I was obsessed with triffids when I was eleven and read the book).  The Wisteria had quietly been going rampant at ground level and had sent out alarmingly long tentacles among the other plants - I'll maybe add a photo of that too. Then it was paracetamol, dinner, compline, das Boot on the telly, and the heartbreaking News. The quiet dignity of our First Minister's wife, whose parents are stranded in Gaza city, contrasted hugely with the strident American Israeli woman I heard on Woman's Hour this morning - I was glad to hear her humanity despite her anxiety. 

What a mess.