From here to ...

My dad used to tell a story, probably apocryphal, of a visitor to a remote croft where he was intending to stay for a few days. Having looked over the building, with its two rooms, he asked where the loo was. The owner, gesturing widely, replied, "From here to Lochaber!" I thought of it when I chose this picture taken at the start of this afternoon's walk. I read blips in which walks have to be taken to dodge crowded places, or where the roads recently have been too dangerous because of ice, and then I look at this and think how lucky we are to be here. Today's walk, one we do often, goes all the way on this road, past the glen with the snowy hills, to where we stopped and turned somewhere behind the smaller of the foreground trees. A few cars passed us, a terrifyingly large tractor, two cyclists and a young woman, walking. As we headed back to the car, tiny snowflakes were dancing round us and there was the warm smell of silage mingled with woodsmoke from a house beside the road. 

It's actually been a good day all round. My poetry workshop gave me as much fun as ever; today I had chosen John Donne's Sonnet Batter my Heart, partly because it's one of two poems that made such an impression on a teenage boy in a class I used to teach that he learned it off by heart - and recited it, with great feeling and considerable accuracy, in front of 28 of his peers. I also chose it because I was so badly taught about the metaphysical poets when I was at university that I didn't get them at all. Whatever the reasons from the past, I was fascinated yet again by the different responses of an adult group - and one with some sophisticated thinkers in it!

The other news came bang in the middle of class. Mr PB fielded it for me, and contained himself till we'd all signed off, when I learned that he'd confirmed an appointment for my first Covid jag tomorrow. In fact, my appointment at the doctor's surgery is two hours before his, which was made on Friday. I suspect someone had called off and they pushed me into the gap. Whatever the rationale - cheers! 

I'm adding a last minute extra, which I've just taken from my front door as I was locking up. I don't know if it'll still look the same in the morning.

Watch this space - it's all go suddenly...