Trying not to wait ...
There's a tendency in this house when there's a holiday in the offing to begin organising for departure far too early, so that life, normal life, is put on hold, as it were. It strikes me that life - my life, our life - is too short to waste it doing this kind of thing, so we were out today in our fave Benmore Gardens, turning off the part of the brain that deals with how to label and identify your cases while travelling. I've put most of the clothes I'm packing in piles on the spare bed, but this too is a danger, for I may well have omitted something sensible in the satisfaction of seeing it all laid out. (No, you're not seeing a blip of that particular mess. It's mine, all mine ...).
I love this tree I've blipped - it hangs onto these leaves well into Autumn, but there's still a good bit of green among the red. We saw no red squirrels today, and only the rump of a rather heavy-on-its feet small red deer as it bounded up the hillside.
And now it's well after midnight and once more I find myself writing nonsense - really. I've deleted the offending phrases and given myself a wee shake. It's still time for bed, however.