The Gleam in the South

 I think I was about 10 when I first became addicted to D K Broster's books about the '45 rebellion and its aftermath. It was the first one, The Flight of the Heron, that I always returned to, perhaps because it was full of hope before the rebellion was crushed, perhaps just because I fell in love with the main character. I even named my younger son after him ... Anyway, the third book is called The Gleam in the North, and it was that I thought of today as I took the photo above. We were plunged into pale greyness all day, with just a dusting of snow at sea level though rather more on the hills, and this brightness down the Firth somewhere - Ayr, perhaps? - was utterly striking. For us, there was no sun - I couldn't even waken myself up because the bedroom was so dark, so the morning began late for me.

I tried to make up for this by throwing out recycling and generally restoring some order to the kitchen before I allowed myself some coffee. After this, we both decided we might as well get some fresh air in the middle of the day rather than at dusk, and combined it with a visit to the hole in the wall for some cash - we both need to pay cash for things in the next few days. We walked along the West Bay solely because I wanted an uninterrupted photo of the light downriver, and we came home via the back road past the church.

That was me in for the rest of the day. Himself went off to practise in the church as long as his fingers held out for - it wasn't long - while I washed up and made bread for tomorrow's breakfast. I did far more Italian than usual because I have several awards (extra points) to use up. When Himself returned we started writing some Christmas cards; I do a short letter inside a few of them (an old school friend not seen since the late 60s, people we've not seen since I was expecting my firstborn, 50 years ago). Trouble is, one is accustomed to writing, glibly, "hope you are both well" and realising, in this winter of losses, that I really, really mean it. I also sang through my parts of tomorrow's duet for church - I keep miscounting the bar between verses! 

Before dinner, I made up for lack of real exercise by single-handedly changing the duvet cover and sheet on our king-sized bed. (I stand on the bed and shake it down. You?) And all evening I fretted, futilely, about my younger son's last overseas trip of the year - I hate it when a flight you can see on the app suddenly vanishes. I suspect they turn off their transponder when they're over a war zone ...

Today's thought: can I bear to have the house colder downstairs so that my eyes get less dry and painful? We're both peering miserably tonight ...

Peering!