Through dub and mire ...
It's wet again. Not pouring wet, just sort of insistent dampness with wetter interludes, but enough to ensure that every indentation in road or path or land is full of water and every patch of earth is turned to claggy mud. And so it was with trepidation that we set off this morning to Hunter's Quay Holiday Village - the location of the gym where we now have our Pilates class - on the first of four runs to cope with our two consecutive and different classes. Thing is, the new owners are developing the site while also using it, and there are lorries and diggers and chain link fences and men in hard hats everywhere - and mud. Grey mud. Lots of it. And the cars of the men in hard hats filling many spaces, so that the hapless punters are left to leave their cars where they can find a space, a daunting and varied exercise as every week there seems to be a new bit cordoned off and turned into ... mud. We can't walk there, for Hunter's Quay is well over a mile away and once there we have to negotiate a hill and quite a distance of tracks, including two mini-roundabouts. The local bus calls there, and each week there seem to be new (or pre-loved) mobile homes (aka chalets) parked in laybys waiting to be sited. I love my class, and my teacher, but I'm hating the place - and as for holidaying there, I'd rather poke out my eyes with a stick.
There. That feels better. Got it off my chest. We also worked jolly hard this morning. We had the foam balls back - first time since the pandemic.
In the afternoon I walked out to a hardware store on the outskirts of town which also has in its premises a very pleasant café, meeting a friend for coffee while we discussed something she's writing for the local paper. I don't often go to cafés in Dunoon, so it made me feel like a Lady Who... You get the picture. I had intended walking home again, but it was so wet when we came out that she insisted on driving me. I had time to do some writing and some Italian before making dinner, so I felt today had been quite well used.
Blipping some bits of the lovely bunch of flowers that arrived yesterday. I've now divvied them into two vases the better to see them all, now that they're all coming out. Some day I'll blip a photo of a muddy car park ...
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