Washing

Changeable weather has meant that I still haven't had a meaningful walk yet, even though it's 6.15 pm as I upload this. That obviously won't do at all, so these feet will need to get out there and do some perambulating soon.

It isn't that I didn't stick my nose out today. Tom, one of the founder members of the Music Group, though no longer involved (the same Tom I meet up with every six weeks or so for a good old chew-and-chat session) phoned yesterday enquiring about recovery progress and saying that he intended coming over this afternoon for a how-are-you visit. He originally planned for me to give him directions from the DART station to Carl's place, but I changed this so that I would walk to the station and meet him there, with a view to having an afternoon coffee in Glasthule. That's what we did, once again going to Number 64 for a wonderfully pleasant sojourn at one of the pavement tables (it was quite blowy, and there were also a few drops of rain, but all in all we were lucky to meet during a dry gap in the day).

As usual when we get together, we had a terrific chat, at the end of which we agreed that I'd be sufficiently fighting fit some time around the middle of August to meet for one of our restaurant adventures. Tom is recently returned from one of his frequent trips to France, and he presented me with a souvenir bottle of pastis and a selection of foreign-language DVDs to keep me amused.

A week ago I would have been delighted to manage to walk down to Glasthule and back, but today that distance seemed like a walking cheat. It was on the way back that I spotted this line of washing in a neighbour's yard. Nothing special, but I liked it all the same. A bit of judicious post-processing and selective colouring (or, more accurately, selective desaturation) and that's the blip of the day. We shall see if further walking transpires or not.