Old and derelict

Another year older... not quite derelict yet. (Me, that is.)

The power station at Methil is slowly being taken down. I'm sure the chimney was due to come down ages ago, but so far they just seem to have stripped the interior of the buildings.

This wasn't at all what I set out to do this afternoon, but after a day of unexpected lunch time fizz and cakes and a nerve-wracking (for me) conversation with a potential future headmistress for the kids (in French), it seemed right to take advantage of a break in the rain, and dash out into the blustery day for some photos of industrial grime.

Not sure I like the very dark silhouette effect the buildings have. It was what I wanted, but now I see it I'm not sure I want it any more. Isn't that often the way.

Katherine made an important discovery today, while watching her Dad chasing a giggling Conor down the street: "I don't think Daddy grew up. I think he just got bigger." You might have a point there, love. Later in the walk: "I'm looking forward to being a mum. Playing with my dolls is fun, but they don't kick - you have to make them kick - and when you give them a bath they don't splash and they can't drown. And they don't cry in the night."

Dolls sound pretty good to me.