We were driven out today by the usual demons of fresh air and exercise, only to find that it was so cold and windy on the front that we couldn't face it. Instead, we walked through the town, turning up a road that I used to take down from Kirn when I'd newly arrived in Dunoon and was taking my new baby in his pram down from Kirn to the bigger shops in the town.
Today, as we walked up Milton Road (in the photo) I was reminded of how hard it was to stay cheerful and optimistic when confronted by this kind of road on a grey March day (I know it's only January; we came here in March). Milton Road borders the area known as The Glebe, which is recorded in 1833 as providing part of the minister's stipend. Some of the old cottages are neat and tidy; others depressingly down at heel, with gardens to match - decrepit sheds, car tyres and weeds come to mind. And yet behind me to the right is one of the town's successful businesses, Black's the baker, with huge lorries parked ready to distribute bread and cakes over a wide area.
But it was very different from the red sandstone tenements of Hyndland, where we'd been living, and often I'd walk the whole way into town without meeting a soul. And today, in the bitter wind, the days when only my lovely baby made me smile came back to me in a blast of memory. Just as well we had choir this evening ...