Fair drookit ...

Ha! Auto-correct-predictive-baloney doesn't even try with drookit - just sticks a red line under it: I've won! What a foul day this is - it was raining by the time I went to bed last night, and has continued wet, pouring or atrocious ever since. The most catastrophic soaking came as a complete surprise; I'd come out of the Pilates studio with a friend and was looking round for Mr PB with the car (the studio is in Dunoon Business Park, a bleak collection of depressing metal-clad buildings beside the cemetery on the high road) when we both spotted him chatting to another man who turned out to be friend's husband (she hadn't actually recognised him ...). As the rain had diminished to the odd drop, we all had a carefully spaced-out (no, not that way) chat until out of the blue we were hit, smashed even, by a violent hail storm. The car was at the other end of the car park, and I was dressed in 3/4 leggings and a fleece jumper ... You can guess the rest.

It took me several hours to feel up to going out again, this time to take a box containing a pair of trainers to return via the Post Office. It took me longer than it should because I had an insane injury to my foot last night: I fell asleep watching the news, my feet on a stool, my ankles crossed. Crossed. Fool. I know not to do that. Something has happened, I think, to my often-sprained, unstable ankle and I now have stabbing pains on the underside of my arch. I know I should have looked after the various sprains when they happened, but as  the very first was halfway up an Austrian Alp, another in the midst of the French countryside with a 10 mile walk back to our hotel, another coming down Stob Coire nan Lochain in Glencoe, you can see why neglect became habitual. Anyway, I took this photo, the only one from today, as I walked gingerly back through the park area beside the main road  from the Post Office into Dunoon. Even in the gloom, I felt the golden trees and their carpet of wet leaves looked quite cheerful.

I was fair drookit, though ...