Time to say goodbye ...

The boys have had their breakfast - a cooked breakfast, to sustain them on their travels. Outside, the sky is grey and the torrential rain of last night has subsided to a drizzle. Packing the car is less trying than it might have been, but it's still quite a business. The random socks have been retrieved from various hiding places, the assorted shoes from the porch. Soon I shall make a last sweep (and find three essential waterproof jackets still hanging on the hall stand ...) and make a final coffee to sustain the driver.

I hate it when these visits come to an end. Soon normal life will re-establish its pattern, but as I type this - back on my desktop for the first time since Sunday - I feel the silence of the house, hear the adult sounds of BBC news on the telly instead of cartoons, grow increasingly aware of the gloom and the rain outside. 

And to cap it all, I've just heard that PS Waverley has bashed into Rothesay pier and dented her prow.