Men at work

And yes, it's men that are clearly at work in the not-terribly-good photo above, but today felt like a day when I too was at work, with the result that I've been poleaxed downstairs when I should have been heading bedwards, flat out on my reclining sofa with my feet up while unattractive people bellowed at me from Question Time. 

I was up early and out to Morrison's on a beautiful, icy morning, which meant de-icing the windscreen and then sitting waiting for it to demist sufficiently for me to drive. The shop was mercifully quiet, and a tall man who was stacking shelves reached down a whole box of vegetable oil bottles for me while delivering a short speech on the downturn in the fortunes of the chain since the Americans took it over. The latter part of the morning saw me dealing with a couple of admin things on the computer, one of which entailed no fewer than three phone calls to a helpful woman who said it was people like me who made them see how clunky and unfriendly their website was. 

It was while we were having lunch that we realised that some horror was happening in the kitchen where the washing machine, reaching its spin cycle, began to make strange extra noises - a cross between a clunk and something ...sliding. When I went to look I could see a puddle spreading over the floor ...

And that is why, O Best Beloved, we were down at Shaw's the builder in the afternoon. As I took the photo, Himself was carrying a brand new Toby key in case we actually needed to turn the water off. (There's someone coming to look at the washing machine in the morning, but ...) Though I took several picturesque photos today, I thought this might interest: it's in the old part of the town, and we're on the road we often walk down to the West Bay, which is behind me. A cherry-picker has a man removing loose slates from a roof on the corner - you can see where they've come off in the storm. When we passed this way again later, he was on the other side of the road; I'm not sure that it's as efficient as a roofer actually on the roof fixing the slates as he squats on them, but it's certainly quicker than putting up scaffolding as long as your house is right on the street. The road on the extreme right is Hillfoot Street, where the Grammar School was originally in the site now occupied by Dunoon Primary School, where my boys went. There are shops, a chippy  and a wine bar on the left of the street.

We had a mile or so walk round by the sea, really for me to try to loosen up the muscles thrown into disarray by all the box-lugging yesterday. I really need to remember I am but mortal ... Then home, to do some Italian (I'm at the top of the league just now; dunno how long I can keep it up!) and make dinner. (Baked salmon with a topping of miso and rolled oats with lemon juice; baked potato with salt flakes and crushed garlic on top; pak choi. And then the total collapse from which I've now, rather annoyingly, emerged. Bad timing. 

Did anyone hear the story (radio, I think) of how school children are now opining that we need a strong leader in preference to a democratically elected one, and are showing every sign of moving to the right?