Warm

I've felt that today was maybe the most consistently warm of the summer so far - from the moment I woke, throwing off the duvet despite the lack of morning sun, right up till now, approaching midnight on a still, quiet evening smelling of woodsmoke. It wasn't always sunny, but it felt like another country. 

A brief foray down town after breakfast furnished me with allergy eye drops, which apparently have the magical property whereby the mere ownership of the bottle means my eyes recovered (which means I've not actually tried them yet). After coffee outside, it was back in to the computer to fill out my application for a new passport (yes, I know - my family's travails alerted me to this necessity if I intend going anywhere in the near future.) I'm intrigued by the mechanism for supplying your photo for an online application - yesterday the pharmacy gave me a card with a grim photo on it, and a code to enter when prompted - and lo: my grim visage immediately appeared on the form. We still, however, had to parcel up the old ones, complete with desirable burgundy cover and exotic visas, and take it to the post office ...

Meanwhile, in Edinburgh, my son managed to get an official Covid test (negative) and certificate, so they're off tomorrow at the crack of sunrise, more or less. Should you find yourself awake at 4am, send good vibes that he too is up and the taxi approaching ...

We went back south again for a brief walk - Himself has a bad back and a sore knee, so we're not going far - because the glens had by this time been affected by dark cloud appearing to come from the direction of Edinburgh. But at Toward the sun was hot and the sea calm. I paddled, my feet surrounded by shoals of tiny fish, and wondered if children still caught baggy minnows in nets...

We dined off a wonderful collation of left-overs, topped with a fried egg to make up for the fact that there were only shreds of chicken left in the tagine and some samphire cooked in a wee bit of butter and brandy to finish. Then I thought I'd jiggered the telly; it took himself much button-pushing and switching on & off to reconnect it to the satellite. Tensions were rising before he managed it. Imagine.

Blipping the sight from my bedroom at midday as PS Waverley sails serenely over a glassy sea towards Dunoon pier in the sunshine, with the towering cumulus over the far side and above the hills.