Cabin'd, cribbed, confin'd...

I don't know about the saucy doubts and fears that Macbeth felt he was prey to, but apart from getting to church this morning (and being deluged with rain when we emerged) I felt trapped indoors today by the increasingly alarming weather - though part of me would fine have loved to be sloshing round the Bishop's Glen with Paddy and Hoy (the collie!). So there were no photos taken today other than the customary shot of the morning view to put on Instagram (a current affectation of mine.)

So, in light of this inactivity, I've made a collage of what I was up to on Friday. The top right photo shows some of the cookery books I was deciding must go, though you can see from the state of them that they've been well used in their day. I still have several folders of recipes torn from magazines, supplements and newspapers - I know I could look them up online nowadays, but the screen tends to die just when my hands are covered in flour, or blood or whatever and I need to check required quantities or something. Like fiction on the Kindle,  recipes online appear to suffer from the inability readily to refer back to things, whether characters or ingredients. 

The photo below the books shows the tidy shelf where once they all reposed - you can see I now have room for the odd other thing - and the big photo one side of my walk-in larder. It'll look less cluttered when the Christmas cake is finished and the big cake box can go aloft again. This larder is the most useful area - the house next door has it as an alcove in their living-room, and when we moved in here there was a glass-panelled door shutting it off from the kitchen, but we removed that smartish. I'll probably not change much else before I pop my clogs.

I've been peering into the darkness at huge waves breaking over the East Bay promenade; they still seem to be very close to the wall despite high tide's having been several hours ago, when I watched a car disappear but for its headlights when it was caught in a wave. I find it so strange that it can be more or less silent - as it is at this moment - and then you hear the gust coming like a train up the Firth. The ferries have been off since about 6pm with no review until the morning, and I've just seen the news report about planes being diverted or just not taking off - and I have to confess that I'd be up to high doh if we were going for an early ferry in the morning en route for the airport, let alone having to take off in this. 

So cabin'd, cribbed, confin'd I may be, but for once I feel relatively relieved. Now all I need is for my slates to hold on...