Pictorial blethers

By blethers

Shining Sunday

I can't believe how chilly it's felt since we came home from Italy, nor how depressing it's been to waken up almost every morning to grey sky, with or without the rain ; I've been thinking longingly of warmer countries, of wandering out in a t-shirt without fear of needing a jacket. But when I opened the curtains this morning - the ones I shut carefully at night over the windows where the sun comes in insanely early and shines right on my face - when I opened them, I was struck by the blue brilliance of my spectacular view and so ... that's what I'm blipping, for the umpteenth time.

Church was incredibly sparsely attended this morning - I know we missed one Sunday when we were away, and it could well be that more people are off on holiday just now, this being a largely retired congregation with few constraints imposed by a job. However, we had a fairly hilarious conversation afterwards, so that it was an hour after the end of the service that we finally staggered home for the coffee that I still crave with renewed urgency after having drunk coffee at breakfast when we were away. 

We spent the afternoon in the garden. "No-mow May" is all very well, but after the work done on the patio in early May we had some bits of grass that had sprouted to knee height while were were away. We found a tiny wasps' nest (extra photo) inside the shed roof, perhaps no longer in use as we saw no sign of wasps, and I did some fairly daunting cleaning up of the half of the shed nearer the door. (I still can't get in to the back of it ...) I fed a few plants which now have to live in pots, and wrestled to clean a favourite flower-pot which has become covered in green dirt. This last reminded me forcibly of my childhood self, when, aged about 11 and excited by having moved to a house with its own garden and a shed and an external coal cellar I used to spend ages with a funny tin basin of hot foamy water washing flower pots for my father to use for bringing on his chrysanthemums. It's an odd feeling suddenly to travel back  66 years to something you've not thought about since then - like time travelling.

We're both still feeling the effects of what I now realise is the drop in cortisol levels after a period of stress - because we both found the first overseas holiday post-pandemic a stressful event in the anticipation and preparation stages. Both of us will suddenly feel as if we have flu, which is disconcerting; then there's the hay fever ...

A new excitement for me is preparing for a re-run of the kind of event I participated in last summer in Stornaway - I had a FaceTime with my friend there who has organised an evening on R.S.Thomas at which I will be the guest speaker. Another thing to avoid getting the 'rona for!

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