Redeemed by red squirrels
Another of those days with little to recommend them. So windy and chilly - it could easily have been a March day, back when lockdown was a terrifying novelty and stretched ahead into an unknown future. Now there's a sense in which we're blasé about being stuck in our little bubbles, but I'm realising there are fundamental differences in the way we all approach the situation. It's clear to me that there are people who observe the rules, more or less, because the government tells them too - perhaps particularly in Scotland, where our First Minister makes the rules so clear, so well spelled-out that even the dimmest can understand. So when they're told it's ok to go to a restaurant or a pub, they think fine, and go, and appear to be quite happy with people all round them, masks off to eat or drink. And then there are the ones who do all the prescribed things with sanitiser and masks and hand washing because they're still actively terrified, and are doing it all off their own bat. You won't find them inside a pub or a restaurant - not yet, anyway - nor touching gates or door handles that other people might have touched, and the thought of going anywhere on public transport makes them blanch. Government reassurances don't mean much to the latter group; they're thinking for themselves and applying possibly stricter criteria than any official line.
Because these two types are often found in the same house, or in a friendship, it can make life in a pandemic even more trying than if we were all the same. And, like Forrest Gump, this is where I say "That's all I'm going to say about that ..."
So to today. I did very little with the day; I made a gooseberry fool with the crop off the gooseberry bush that was savaged two years to get rid of a fern that had taken root around it; this is the first fruit to appear since then - I used to get 4 lbs of berries in a good year. The fool was excellent; it reminded me of summer holidays when I was a child. I started another sourdough loaf off, though this evening the house feels so chilly I'm wondering how well it'll rise overnight. (Our thermostat is set at 16C overnight, but the heating hasn't come on for months)
As you will see from the squirrel I'm blipping, we did get out later on, sheltering from the strong winds along the south side of Loch Eck. I loved this little chap with his almost black tail, which he seems to be using for balance. If you look closely, you'll see that he's spilled a bit of nut on said tail. I also love the opportunistic chaffinches that lurk around waiting for a chance to grab some of the spilled fragments from the front of the feeding box - especially when the squirrel goes off to deter a rival for the nuts.
Tomorrow I'm again hoping to be early in the supermarket. Don't let me forget to buy fine salt ...