Losing the Plot

I may be losing the plot and really who could blame me after 4 months of my own company, but having passed this outside light fixture for 10 years, this morning it suddenly looked like a knight’s helmet hung on the wall. I swear no narcotic has passed my lips but I fear for my sanity.

To clear my head I walked this afternoon to Waitrose in Morningside to pick up an online order from Lewis’s. The gardens en route where bursting with colour and I have posted some of the flowers in an extra.

The Dower House has no garden in which to hang my washing and so with a lovely breeze and some intermittent sunshine, I decided to dry my bedding on the patio by spreading it over the garden table. Not a particularly good look for the passers by over the railings but not in the same league as the view of the boxers and other intimate sundry apparel drying for all the world to see at the windows of the students living in the adjacent new flats.

How I miss pegging out washing on a line. Maybe I should have got out more, but I used to have so much satisfaction in seeing a line of artistically positioned clothes flapping in the wind and knowing the wonderful fresh smell they would have when they came in dry and looking as though they had been ironed. I told you I should have got out more.