Pictorial blethers

By blethers

A new day ...

Last night when I went to bed, I'd left the curtains open. I do this all year round, from preference, because I like to see the moon, or the lights on the far side of the Firth, and because I like air to get in and when you have big lined curtains drawn this doesn't happen. And I'd seen the forecast which suggested it would still be cloudy in the morning ...

But as you can see, it wasn't. So at 4am I was up drawing the relevant curtains so that I wouldn't have the sun shining straight into my eyes. But first I had to pad off to find my phone and take this blip - because I love the silky look of the sea with the path of light from the rising sun. And so it was that I didn't really sleep properly again, because I'd done stuff. And now it's midnight again and I'm feeling it.

So what did this new day hold? For a start, we didn't go for a walk. This is deeply unusual, but we were busy. I caught up with the Pilates lesson I missed by heading out to walk yesterday morning, I had coffee with my pal on FaceTime, I made stock for a risotto. And in the afternoon the pair of us attacked the garden for a bout of determined grass-howking. Picture us both, bent double as if we were still doing Pilates, hauling great clumps of grass, including last year's, from between the white stones that some misguided soul thought would be a good border between path and flowerbed (not me - well before our time). By the time we'd finished - and no, it's not perfect but it's a great deal better - we were aching all over.

In the world outside, of course, the news ground on. Resignations, yes, but not of the correct person. Two of our Scottish bishops joining their Church of England counterparts in denouncing the actions of the PM and his advisor. Church members split over whether the Jesus they followed was meek and mild or the overthrower of the money-changers' tables; confusing comment on politics with party politics; dipping a toe in the commenting game and then retreating. And through the hedge, our neighbour wondering if he was needing to change his mind ...

The day ended with a hearty vodka and tonic in the garden and a loud rendering of Happy Birthday over the phone to our younger grandson. He sounded tired too. It'd been a long day.

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