Past the 12.000

Right. This morning's supermarket shop was far less stressful than last Thursday's, largely because the pickers and packers didn't seem to be around the shelves I was among. The downside was that there were far more gaps on the shelves, reminding me in places of photos of Soviet shops in the 70s, or of the big shop in The Handmaid's Tale on the telly. Apparently, for example, the depot sent out far too much Lurpak yesterday, and no Oatly (my preferred non-dairy milk), despite accurate gap-logging by the worker who told me this. (This is a sane bloke who calls me by my name; I tend to believe him.) And there's a bit of a hiatus in the yogurt fridges as well - does this happen, for instance, in Edinburgh?

After the shop, the breakfast, the clearing up, the restorative coffee - after all that, while the morning was still sunny, we went to church to record a hymn. I walked, though I knew I'd be walking again later, and took today's blip as I crossed the bridge (the same weak bridge as featured in a dark photo last week) below the hill on which the church perches. 

By the time I went out to meet my bestie at Benmore, it had begun to rain, and we were well soaked by the time we'd finished. We'd revisited the refuge at the top of the hill, and we'd just sat down when yesterday's robin appeared, only to be driven off by a random dog which appeared with another dog and two people from the other path. We had  a bit of an altercation because the man said cheerfully "He doesn't bite." I shall leave you to imagine the rest.

I've just left Question Time again, to come and soothe my savage breast by writing this. That man Johnson will throw anyone under the bus so long as he's allowed to stay on it ...

Id just posted this before I realised  I'd made no reference to my fanciful header: it refers to the fact that today I walked more than 12,000 steps - something that hasn't happened much these days because of Himself's back.