A tale of two lives

If Dunoon were a city, I'd have stolen the original title, but as it's not... You may have gathered that we returned to our normal lives today, responsible only for ourselves and once again totally worn out. Edinburgh was cloudy this morning when I was moved to get up by the ringing of the doorbell - we weren't expecting any callers this morning, but Neil had omitted to tell us about the gardener. Anyway, while he made perfect the already impressively tidy garden, we had breakfast, tidied, up, fed the cats (again), tackled our packing (should be easy after only 4 nights, but hey ho ...) 

We paused for some coffee, loaded up the car with not only cases but also assorted gifts, foody treats and a vase of flowers, heaped up the cat food bowls one more time and got away some time after midday. The roads were relatively quiet, the motorway orderly (though the A8 in central Glasgow had been blocked earlier by a car which burst into flame) and the ferry arrived just as we did. The sea looked fabulous, the sun was out again, and we were home ...

...but not to rest. I started a washing load off, had tea and Christmas cake, emptied the car - and we were off, away up to the church to join our new incumbent and some Vestry members on a tour of the grounds and graveyard. Enough to say that right now the amount to be tackled makes me tired - but this isn't the time to think about it, I reckon.

Eventually we were home again. Himself set about cleaning the awesome mess left on the car  by the (clearly large) birds in the tall tree under which we'd been parked in Edinburgh; I trailed up and down stairs with bags and garments and packing (you'll see why, eventually) and watered the pots - it's been so dry and they're looking droopy. We had some lovely truffle pesto pasta with assorted vegetables in it, a glass of wine, a couple of rum babas from a jar (thank you, Ewan!) and collapsed in a heap.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow ...

Photo of Holy Trinity from the graveyard.