Pictorial blethers

By blethers

A Tuesday

In the olden days, schools were always on holiday for Good Friday and then the following week perhaps to the Thursday. Then the Powers That Be decided they couldn't be doing with movable feasts and the exam diet went on for longer and longer and therefore needed space to breathe (I'm sort of embroidering this) and they went for a fixed Spring Holiday instead of following the Easter moon around. Or something. Anyway, our Tuesday routine returned today, rather disconcertingly, and I'm just in from choir - though a much depleted choir because some of us are still clearly in The Old Ways...

It was a glorious day that went on getting gloriouser, so that the sky now, just after 9pm, is completely clear and the air still and quite chilly. Himself sprang from bed insanely early and brought me tea, which meant that I was awake after only 6 hours' sleep - the result of stress connected with the hellish upheaval to our house planned for next week. By the time I'd scraped myself together to appear downstairs, he'd dealt with one part of it by calling off the work  - one way to deal with it! 

The rest of the day seemed unrestful, but the sun was shining and calling to me, so we went a real old person's walk down the coast road, starting off from Innellan and walking as far as Toward. We drive that road so often, but never look at all the houses - many grandly Victorian villas - and their gardens; today we had a good stare. We also had a seat a couple of times, as Innellan is well provided with in memoriam type benches with views of the sea. When we got in, we finished off the labyrinthine holiday arrangements - I booked an airport hotel room at Gatwick for the night before we fly out while John booked a taxi to take us to the airport because we have to be quite early and he no longer trusts our no-longer-young car not to let us down. We're not going to die wealthy.

Blipping the view from one of the seats along the coast - the light on the water pleased me, and if you look carefully you can see the little lighthouse and, distantly, a ship off the north of the Island of Cumbrae. Even the grass is gleaming ...

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