Driving forces

Do you ever imagine yourself as not having changed much in, say, 20 or so years, see yourself as still able to do all the stuff you did then? And then you try ... Which is how I feel tonight, somewhat. Last night I was so tired that in the end I couldn't sleep - not the way I'd been sleeping in front of the ten o'clock news, for example - and I suspect I'd been too carried away by having the chance to teach some Shakespeare again. The ninety-minute lesson - which of course used to be what a double period's work would be - was probably past me now. 

Only this morning I did it again. We were focussing, Catriona and I, on weaving together the implications of what seemed chance utterances in different scenes, and how doing this made Macbeth, in this instance, come more fully alive, more connected - and tied in with the way to handle that dire word beloved of exam setters: themes. And the time flashed past and suddenly I was aware of the need to drink coffee - there are no bells to restrain the home tutor!

And we'd finished. The rest was up to her. We all three of us headed out for some lunch in Rishi's across the harbour and piled into different curries and rice and a garlic naan ... 

The rest of the afternoon was taken up with a fruitless errand to Tiso's, a lie down with a book, some tea and a delicious Arab pastry from a box left by my son. Granddaughter went for a power walk and we started assembling our stuff - including a duvet - which looked enough for a week. Eventually we left, later than intended but in fact gaining an almost unhindered exit westwards onto the M8, the rush-hour being well over. 

It drizzled as far as Edinburgh city boundary. then became maddeningly sunny enough to make us have to sit like meerkats through Glasgow. And then the sky became photo-worthy and that's where today's blip comes from - the view of the hills above Dunoon, with the red sunset sky casting a gleam on the river, taken from a higher bit in the road before it drops down to hug the shoreline and you miss the chance of a good photo.

Now we're home; Catriona's mum and sister have returned safely from Brittany; school goes back tomorrow and we have ... who knows?

Sufficient unto the day ...