Last of the perfect days

The weather forecast suggests that this high pressure weather we've been enjoying is about to end, but today showed no sign of that whatsoever. I was wakened by the sun in my eyes - must remember to pull that curtain over a bit tonight - and the notion did occur to me that the red line of the sunrise would make a great photo, but I restrained myself...

I was up quite briskly and out of the house by 8.20am to do the shopping, enjoying the customary blether with the check-out lady who's always there early on Thursdays - this week's choice item had to be thick moppets. For some reason that had me laughing beside the Vanish powder, and I was still laughing by the time I'd managed by subtle body language and a little bit of manoeuvring to get some of my messages on to the belt despite the best efforts of the man in front of me to fill the entire space with his body while he waited for his stuff to be priced. I think he was buying for resale somewhere - it was the oddest collection of sweeties in his trolley. 

Himself spent hours in church today (in a temperature of 4ºC) with the organ man (what do you call someone who installs and maintains an electronic organ? Not an organ builder anyway!) who was trying to fix the pedal board where the contacts had been ruined over the past 5 or 6 years by the wet (it's worse than damp) and perhaps a mouse or two. So far he's not succeeded, soldering iron and all, and we'll be minus the pedals until he's found a spare part. Let's hope it's fixed by the big service of collation coming up ...

Meanwhile I went back down the road to deposit a prescription request, was greeted warmly by a paramedic who can only have known me from some dire episode in the Quorn summer, hung out a washing on the wounded whirligig, did my Italian and fell asleep between lessons, and had some soup and oatcakes and cheese for lunch. When Himself finally came home we headed out to Benmore Gardens for a gentle, low-level walk - we were both so tired by this time that we'd not have made it up the hill even if the paths had been open again. It's going to be a long time till we get back up there, I fear. But the gardens were calming and lovely; the air was full of birdsong and scents - not least the hot chocolate scent from Azara microphylla, an undistinguished-looking shrub from Chile and Argentina whose tiny yellow blossoms or glossy leaves give out this incongruous perfume. Today's photo was taken on our way back to the bridge over the River Eachaig which separates the gardens themselves from the car park and shop; the river is very low after this dry spell and it all felt still and quiet in the mild air of teatime.

Once again I've slept all evening over the telly - I think I managed to watch 30 minutes before I dozed off. I didn't even see the News properly, though I spent some time today reading coverage and comment on Gaza, Ukraine, Trump and the SNP finances case. Wouldn't it be good to have a spell when the news could all be frivolous? 

Maybe that's a dream too far. 

Interesting. When I went to place this on the map as I usually do, the map came up green with "this page for development purposes only" on it. What's that all about?