Signs of life?

There always seems to be at one day like this in the run-up to Christmas. I'm not just talking weather - though today was a real misery - but a range of components and unfamiliar circumstances. I'm giving myself a mental shake, right now, telling myself we could be in Kentucky, but mental acknowledgement is one thing and wholehearted acceptance is quite another.

It began when I thought I was feeling under the weather in the morning. That particular worry had two strands - there's Covid, first, and the need to be able to sing, which is perennial. I cured it, temporarily, by taking a LFD test and having some coffee. But on days when the rain is incessant and I can't really face stravaiging about in the gloom to no purpose when I have so many things that actually need doing - on such days I don't thrive. 

I did achieve some of what I set out to do: I retrieved Christmas presents, some bought more than a month ago, from various caches, found the new Sellotape that I'd bought specially (the joy of sellotape that doesn't tear the wrong way!), identified what I'd bought for which people, and made up a parcel to post and a few others while I was at it. I made sourdough bread and remembered the critical bit at the end (putting it in the oven). I did my Italian. 

And I did actually get out, as the afternoon morphed seamlessly into dusk. I had to buy flour (2 kilos of strong white and a kilo of granary, if you're interested, plus a scoop of nigella seeds), and met, for the third time in as many weeks, a former colleague whom I hadn't seen for years before that. She was in the Health Store too, so we had a blether, brief but jolly, which fair cheered me up for a bit. And before I left the street where the shop is, I took the two photos that make up today's blip collage. The left hand one is Hillfoot Street, really the historic shopping street of the town with on the left the primary school that began life as Dunoon Grammar School. There are still shops all the way down the right hand side, and a pub and some small shops beyond the school. Look carefully and you will see one other living soul: a man, at the other end of the pavement. This is at 3pm on a Saturday two weeks before Christmas. Dire. The right hand photo is a quick glance in to the Argyll Vintners, which actually has a couple of customers inside and whose owners deserve a medal for brightening up the street with their lighting and decoration. 

I was only out for 30 minutes or so and then it was back to the wrapping paper. It's strangely tiring, a day like this, and has left me once more feeling decidedly stressed as I try to have a sensibly early night. I'm preaching in the morning, and it's as well to have my wits about me. 

I'll get back to reading more Blippery when I feel more relaxed.