Pan pipes at Tarvit.

A late phone call last night from Janette in Birmingham.  She’s my oldest friend so there’s always plenty to talk about and we laughed a lot about the aches and pains of old age and griped a bit about the present government. Janette was in the civil service and worked at Downing Street when Thatcher was PM.  I remember getting a Christmas card from No 10 and not being at all pleased.  Little did I know what the future held.  Went to bed later than usual and was woken about five by what sounded like roaring wind but was actually torrential rain.  Dozed on and off with the rain fading and returning and was late up with overflowing gutters and rain still falling. As a result I spent yet another day doing nothing much.  Dipping in and out of different books as I used to do in my youth. Then it was normal for me to be reading three or four books at the same time. Working in a library meant access to all the latest publications.  Eventually I dragged myself out to the Hill of Tarvit to have a walk and a photograph. The rain had more or less gone off and people were playing hickory golf in front of the house and not on the course.  The version there is shorter and more like a mix of croquet and putting.