Slipping back ...

No, not backsliding - that would never do. But today I was aware of our slipping back into our term-time routine (and yes, it's quite, quite mad still to think of term time a full twenty years after retiring, but there you are. I didn't rush to get up; there were no deadlines looming, no bags to pack or people to see, and so I did a bit of doom-scrolling, drank my tea, looked at photos posted by family, all before getting up.I was particularly touched by my blip friends' generous responses to yesterday's entry - what a lovely lot of people you are! 

When I did get up, I gathered all the laundry awaiting my attention and carted it down to breakfast: it was washed while I ate. I hung most of it out, despite the infuriating showers that came and went with insane rapidity - in the end, it more or less dried, give a thick collar or two, and didn't need to be draped round the house for too long. I did my Italian, and later I went out to buy a strangely heavy load of stuff from the Health Store. And I checked the new church rotas, doing my head in because it's now covering the entire period up to Christmas and it reminded me - again! - of term time; of the first department meeting of the new session when we were taken through all the things that were to happen before June and the mind boggled uncontrollably...

We had dinner at the odd time that "normal" Tuesdays - ie those with choir practice in the evening - demand, after which I read for a bit, fell asleep for a few minutes, watched the news - Trump and the National Guard don't fill me with confidence - and got ready to go out for a 7.30pm start. It was on the way to the rehearsal - in the hall of the church with the alarming spire just across the way from our house - that I took the above photo of one of the massive cruise ships, the Nieuw Statendam, heading for Douglas, Isle of Man but looking as if it was just at the bottom of the street down to the main road. 

And then we sang, minus a first soprano and a second alto but nonetheless making a rather decent sound (except that I tend to lose my voice if I have to do too much work around middle C and especially if it's pop music rather than Renaissance). It's just as well - we have a gig in a fortnight.  There was an amber Aurora alert just as the rehearsal ended, but I could see no sign - I think there was too much cloud. 

And that's it. Some day soon I simply must do a decent food shop ...