Spring work

A veritable scorcher of a day.  As I write the waves are gently nibbling at my feet and Scullion is topping up my glass.  The coquettish Marielle Frostrup has just arrived to read to me.  No, hang-on, it must have been the smack on the head with the flat iron, I’ve been digging at the side of the tunnel (whilst CMC has been in town dancing).  I’ve now been sent inside to make the tea.  After tea we will venture forth into Kirkwall for an evening of dancing.  

Speaking of tunnels I think there is a loose tile in the shower.