Dawn from the right end

I'm not a morning person.

Conor is an early riser.

He has a clever alarm clock where a bunny in the clock wakes up at the preset time: the idea being that if the bunny isn't awake, stay in bed; if the bunny's awake, it's ok to get up. Sadly the bunny broke a few weeks ago, going through anywhere between 13 and 17 hours for every 12 real hours. So, I gave Conor a watch, and showed him how to tell when the little hand is on the 7.

This morning we had half hourly updates on the time.

<knock knock>

"Mammy? Mammy it's 5 o'clock."

Conor, being a bit deaf at the mo, can't hear my muffled answers through the bedroom door, so I either have to get up, or shout.

This continued until 6 o'clock when I gave in (partly due to confusion of not having reset my alarm clock to GMT) and got up. That's when I hatched the plan to go and catch the dawn down by the sea. This longing to photograph the dawn is inspired by this kind of blip from Sunflower, and this kind of blip from Kath Gordon. My experience was slightly less golden! Probably I was looking in the wrong direction, but we didn't really see any more than a faint pink glow in, bizarrely, the north west.

I did have the chance to do a bit of driving research on possible future blip sites. And home by 8am.

Sleepy morning after that, then a bus trip (big excitement for the kids who love buses, grumpiness from me at the price - £7.30 for the two of us - plus free Conor - to get to North Berwick) to take Conor to a brand new golf lesson. Mr B had the car to take Mr B snr home from hospital. He seems to be doing fine.

While waiting for the bus home, we popped onto the beach and I took this slightly odd long exposure shot. Not sure I like it really, but it's given me some ideas for better shots.

Sorry to disappoint those looking for a grotesque SP today: the cheek is looking almost normal now. But next time I am hideously deformed by something painful, I will think of you strange lot first and photograph it quick.