And it's goodbye from him ...

Our flying visit over, we returned home today, leaving mid-morning after the family had got away on their sporting commitments - James to a rugby day-camp somewhere some distance to the north and Alan to his first paid employment as a referee. I insisted on taking his photo in the black gear - an idiosyncrasy he put up with gracefully as he has ever since I first photographed him in his Whyteleafe (did they spell it that archaic way?) strip when he was a small boy. He suddenly looked so adult as he stalked out of the house, leaving us in the hall and Po the collie in his customary position across the fourth stair up, gazing at the closed door and looking sad. We were grateful when his auntie and uncle turned up to take him off for a day with them - they're big faves. I thought I'd give Po the photo-opp for today, as he looked so soulful...

Released from having to lift our bags over the dog, we became more efficient and left around midday for the relatively brisk drive from a balmy, increasingly bright Edinburgh morning to a fairly grim Dunoon afternoon, with a brisk southerly wind blowing the grey, white-edged waves up the Firth and the continual threat of rain. We retrieved a box of scones from our food parcel and ate a couple each (they weren't big) as we caught up with the papers and warmed up (it really was chilly) before going out for a leg-stretch, rain or no rain.

We chose to make a circle round the village of Innellan, from shore road up the hill and round the parallel upper road to a steep hill back down to the shore. It was when we were coming down that we caught sight of a neat naval ship gathering speed with its escorting launch, passing right in front of us as we walked. (Extra photo). It's amazing how these ships merge into the greyness, though as Himself pointed out it doesn't really make much difference these days. I don't know what navy it belonged to, as it got no mention at all on the Shipfinder app.

Over dinner (thank you, Mary - delicious!) we discussed the maturity of Catriona's calm demeanour on stage last evening: surely becoming used to public performance at an early age must be an advantage for anyone, no matter where they're headed? Suddenly her imminent departure to the next stage of her life seems perfectly inevitable - and I for one am grateful for all the encouragement given by people like last night's conductor. 

And now it's late again, and life takes up again after a week of less activity. Pilates in the morning, clicking knee and all. Onward and ... upward?