Compensations ...

The weather's been changing today - I woke to the same sort of light dusting of snow that we saw yesterday, but by the time I'd finished breakfast it was raining slightly and the temperature rose from 1ºC to 4ºC now (at 1am). However the most influential part in all this was played by the ice that formed, lethally and invisibly, under the rain. My pal Paddy rang to say she was coming over for coffee and some of my Christmas cake (I'd invited her earlier in the week) and I went out to see if she was coming and realised that our front steps and path were once again a skating rink. Hoy the dog, who'd apparently alerted Paddy to the ice by dashing out and sliding all over the place, seemed unconcerned - as was the redoubtable Paddy, who was wearing spikes and carrying walking poles. Apparently A&E was already busy with the fallen, and people were cancelling meetings all over Facebook. 

We, however, had a jolly morning despite a sense of being imprisoned, and an idle lunchtime dozing over the papers. By then a wind was getting up and the thought of finding random ice patches was a deterrent to any forays outside, so I set to culling the recipe books on the shelf in the pantry. This sudden burst of tidiness was occasioned by my suddenly noticing that the shelf was beginning to detach itself from the wall - but I may return to that tale tomorrow if it's a boring day.

Our evening was far from boring. Our favourite restaurant in Dunoon, Chatters, had announced it was open this evening - post-Covid and the restaurant’s reversion to its original owner it's become a pop-up, running in tandem with a catering business, so it's a case of watch out for dates on Facebook and get in there. I'd arranged this yesterday, so that's where we  spent a delightful evening eating wonderful food and meeting old friends who hailed us as they passed our table. We've known the owner for almost as long as we've lived here (she was a pupil when Himself was a young teacher) and there's always a sense of being looked after from the moment we arrive. The collage is of the various stages of the evening, from sherry and canapés in the sitting room through chicken croquettes (meltingly wonderful) and cod with gnocchi to coffee and petits fours and - unintended and totally delightful - a last limoncello over ice back in the sitting room beside the fire. 

The restaurant takes up the whole ground floor of a traditional cottage in the town, just beside the supermarket, so it's only five minutes walk from home. This evening really felt like a compensation for our cancelled cruise - and we'll be looking out for more pop-up dates. And now, somehow, it's 1am and I feel I really ought to be in bed ...