All at sea ...

I've just locked up for the night, after hearing on the weather forecast how the warning for the south west has been upped to Amber and seeing the radar and the isobars, and I couldn't help noticing how utterly still and quiet the night is. I can't think it'll last, though I know the depression is way to the south of us. Today wasn't warm - more Septemberish than summery - but first thing, when the sun was splitting the sky and I was out before breakfast on an unsuccessful mission to track a missing parcel from Amazon which is rumoured to be in the Royal Mail depot it felt like summer and tempted us to go for a walk in the morning before the greyness overtook us. (The parcel wasn't there)

I didn't give in to the holiday impulse entirely (see yesterday's post) in that I washed all the towels and hung them out before we left - they were bone dry when I got home. We escaped the north wind by going to Toward; the shore road was sheltered, we sat on a bench for a bit, and I pottered briefly on the beach before we came home for lunch. (That's when I took the photo, looking south down the Firth of Clyde, calm and clear and chilly).

Himself went off to practise the organ in the afternoon, leaving me to do useful little things like putting his prescription request into the surgery letterbox and collecting my own prescription from the chemist. I made the mistake of walking along Argyll Street before coming back up to the house; it was horribly depressing with closed shops (in one of which the ceiling had collapsed), scaffolding, the space where the fire was, and empty but for a family who looked to be on holiday and wondering why they'd bothered. I then found myself too tired to do any gardening (and boy, does it need it!) and repaired instead to the study, where I uploaded my Arran photos to Flickr.

I also, I should tell you, sent an email to the BBC Food Programme, on the advice received here; I may yet try contacting the company too. Thanks for all the suggestions on yesterday's post!

I'm uploading another extra: I didn't take it, obviously, but one of the group I was talking to on Tuesday did and my friend Paddy sent it to me. It shows me standing at the water's edge, with the Ayrshire coast and Cumbrae behind me, talking about my own war poetry while my audience sit round on the sand. It's quite hard to do nuance when you're competing with the sea, but it was a calm day and my listeners were a lovely responsive bunch.

And now the midnight owl (on the clock in the study - it hoots at midday too) has hooted like something out of Macbeth and I must get to my bed!