Before Babet

Is 'Babet' rather an odd name? Is it a variant on Babette? I think the Met Office is becoming fanciful ... Anyway, today was quite noticeably blustery, with an east wind blowing up white horses on the Firth, but it was dry throughout, which won't last much longer...

Another day of randomness. Probably because I tend to go to bed kinda late (it's after midnight now) I don't feel inclined to rush in the mornings, and I really enjoy breakfast - one of the big discoveries of the retired life, breakfast, which I used to have to force down in minimal quantities, just enough to keep me standing till mid-morning. Now I enjoy every moment of what may just be cereal or porridge with a bit of dried fruit and yogurt, followed by home-made toast and Vegemite, accompanied by Radio 4 and a light dusting of social media. Why am I telling you this? Because it takes up a big chunk of morning, and leaves me scampering to justify my existence with another batch of laundry (dried outside) and a pot of poached pears with honey. And then a trip to the health store for laundry liquid - I get my bottle refilled with Eco stuff - and some clothes sorting for Oxfam. 

I was pottering around upstairs when I realised there was a noise outside reminiscent of a gigantic dentist's drill (big drill, not big dentist) and discovered the blacksmith and his mate putting up the handrails that complete our order for the front steps. I've put a photo of them as an extra - didn't think they'd appreciate being plastered all over Facebook - as they checked with us exactly where we wanted them. They've done a wonderfully neat job so far - they're almost finished. 

We went for a walk up Glen Massan in the afternoon, and my main photo is the view as we left the car in a lay-by and started up the road. It's amazing how swiftly the trees on either side of the road have grown up; when we used to come here we left the car in the same place but it felt we were in the middle of the forest; the forest was harvested and now another one is suddenly tall. The sun didn't stay out the whole time, but the beginning of the walk was glorious and we were sheltered from the wind as long as we were in the gorge of the lower glen. On the way back I made a detour to see where the old iron bridge over the river had been swept away in the last downpour, presumably with the remains of a caravan which is still forming an island in the middle of the river. 

Then it was home to make bread for breakfast - my second loaf of the day - and attend Compline. I've just had an online chat with my younger granddaughter - I was on the point of asking why she was up so late until I remembered she's in New York ...