Pictorial blethers

By blethers

Trying...

Today, I tried to be sanguine. I told myself to stop agitating about doing little, to relax and do minor things like reading the online Scotsman right through ( which I did), writing a blurb for an event that might or might not yet be actual rather than virtual (did that too), doing a great batch of Italian to try to start that particular week well (I actually took a screenshot to show I'd reached the Gold Medal position in the Diamond League on Duolingo: it won't last!

There were two reasons for trying to calm down. One was that for some reason I woke at 5am and found proper sleep almost impossible thereafter. The light outside was a flat grey, and a blackbird was giving it laldy in our silver tree in the garden. The other was the weather, in the morning at least - it kept raining, then tantalisingly stopping, then starting again. And there was no Pilates class because our teacher is doing all the admin to get all her classes going again in the studio next week. Fingers crossed for that one! There was compensation in a lovely phone call from my daughter-in-law, some crazy texts from her younger daughter later, and the arrival of a new T-shirt that I'd ordered on impulse last week. Olive green seems to be A Thing this season and goes well with the hair ...

We did in fact go out later, before dinner, when there was a glimpse or two of sun. Having posted that link yesterday to the uncomprehending Canadian and his dreary trudges, I was thinking about why we walk in this country. My theory is that if you like being out of doors you have to walk (or run, or cycle, or play football) because it's too damned cold not to. Pottering in a garden is only really enjoyable when the sun is warm on your back, and sitting looking at the sea requires some heat and the absence of rain. Anyhow, we bashed along the front and back - maybe 5km in all - and I took a few photos of Kirn because it really looked rather nice in the sun. The residents association do a really good job on that area in the village, with flowers and plants and quirky decorations, none of which was true when I lived in Kirn for the first 18 months of our lives here.

We had a ridiculous dinner - truly low cuisine - of black pudding, bacon, new potatoes and kale, followed by rhubarb and yogurt. It was actually delicious. It may yet, however, be the death of me ...

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