Last of the summer ...

...coffee. As the rain falls gently but persistently into the dark night, with none of the light that I could still see in the sky at this time last evening, I feel that the only photo I took today could act as an elegy for summer past. To be sure, it was nice not to remember with a sudden pang as I was on the point of having dinner that I'd still to water the pots, and I'm sure that other than the fulsome golden rose that I cut and brought into the house rather than have it dashed to the ground by morning - other than that, the plants will be rejoicing and the weeds will once again rise triumphant ... you get my drift.

We had quite an early start - for us anyway - today, as the only appointment I could get this week with my hairdresser was for 10.15am and we were out bright and early only to sit for ages in the ferry queue because there were unreasonable numbers of cars and a huge tour bus that got on to the ferry we were aiming for and left us having to wait for the next one. So I was late and apologetic and glad to relax in the wonderfully abandoned position brought on by the hair washing chair at the basin.

Because it was only 11am or so when I got out, our usual Italian cafe wasn't yet open, so we went across the road to another place we tend to frequent on days in Greenock and found ourselves sitting out the back in a triangular space like an old school playground, though in fact the building was originally a church. Café Mor is situated within a lovingly restored gaelic church originally built in 1823, the scones are of epic proportions and quality (though today we didn't have one!) and the staff are friendly and helpful, and we sat in warm sun overlooking a quiet road alongside the parking space of a branch of Aldi. La dolce vita - in Greenock.

After that we drove along to the big Tesco in Port Glasgow to make up for the deficiencies in my shopping on Monday, decided against lunch out, and came home before the weekend traffic made life impossible. After tea and toast and a banana, I had a shower (Princess and the Pea stuff after a haircut) and went out into the drizzle for a local paper and a leg-stretch along the front, only to be met by a wall of noise which turned out to be the start of a weekend of Punk that has become an annual horror in the Coal Pier car park. In previous years this event has made sitting in our garden a less than peaceful experience, but as it's going to be wet for the next two weeks (I think) they should be well gone before we feel the need to be out there. And we have good double glazing ...

And that was today. Himself made curry for dinner; my younger grandchildren seem to have survived a ten-day field trip somewhere in the north with their school year; I have agreed to do the Intercessions on Sunday as my pal Di will be away and it's her turn. 

And now I'm off to bed to continue re-reading Robert Harris' Pompeii...

(I'm hoping Himself doesn't get too cross at the photo - he was talking at the time.)