A day of shreds and patches ...
Today began far too early, as I woke while it was still dark and didn't sleep particularly soundly thereafter. I had to do the usual shopping run before breakfast, where the biggest news as far as I was concerned was the bill: I spent over £100 on a weekly shop for two people. I know there was an expensive chicken in there, and some English asparagus, but it was alarming nonetheless.
As Himself had been out at the doctor's at the same time and had discovered that some toad had let their dog crap on the pavement outside our gate, breakfast was a somewhat prolonged affair: he didn't want to leave it there in case someone walked it up our path. It really took me till after a late elevenses that was more like twelveses to do some admin connected with our forthcoming holiday, for which I feel we ought to have had our final flight details by now. So did the nice woman at HF, the company we go with, so I hope she's going to gee things up a bit. Sadly we no longer get a comforting fat envelope with a book full of information, as well as tie-on labels and tickets - the post-Covid world of travel involves us in more work and the possession of a computer.
One of the things that inflated my shopping bill this morning was a gadget to fasten my phone onto the air vent of the car; I was physically unable to complete the setting-up, which involved clicking two bits of plastic together, so with this as my excuse I headed round the Holy Loch to the house and the husband of my pal Di to get some strong-arm stuff on it. This done, Di and I felt in need of exercise and set off "round the block" - along the coast road through Blairmore, up the back, and south again round the hillside and down at Strone. We bashed along at a good lick and were back at her house just before 6pm.
Blipping the bicycle on the shore at Blairmore; the owners of the house there maintain it as a cheering display which I may well have blipped before. Today the Easter Bunny is still celebrating the 40 days of unremitting joy on his flower-decked bicycle, and I shall supplement his photo with one of the bluebells (proper Scottish ones) on the hillside above.
You'll have noticed I make no mention of polling day; we've had a postal vote for many years now when we'd booked a holiday that clashed with polling day. I always feel a tad left out, though I did receive a jolly phone call from the party to which I belong just checking if I'd remembered to post it ...
Reader, I had.