Capricious

I always check the weather forecast (using the BBC app) before I even get out of bed in the morning. I know it's crazy when I sit in bed with an extensive view of the Firth of Clyde and the hills to the north, but I like to know what will be as well as what is - and today it announced that there would be light cloud and a chance of showers. Meantime the rain was battering off the windows from out of a leaden sky ...

I wasn't out in the morning. Instead, we spent more time on our holiday website choosing restaurant bookings and excursions on a beautiful-looking but somewhat clunky website. I also cleaned the bath: it seems unjust that even when no-one is taking baths at the moment the bath still  needs cleaning, even if it's more like dusting. And then there's the drips ...

However, we were determined to go out in the afternoon. We've not been down the road for a bit - gales and rain have conspired to send us under trees, inland a bit - but we chased the sun and found it by driving through torrential rain till it stopped. We marched briskly up the farm road at Ardyne and back down to walk along the shore for a bit. Both the above photo and the extra come from that walk: the main one is of Toward sailing club and its pier in the rather fine lighting that was happening at the moment, like a stage set; the extra of an enormous, placid, curious sheep which may be a Texel sheep looking at us as we passed the farm buildings. 

I have felt decidedly chilly all evening despite my having the fire toasting my toes as I did when I was a teenager. The heating comes on in the morning and was on briefly at the start of the evening, but by the time I was sitting down it was off and I was sure there was a breeze somewhere in the sitting room ...

A thought: if I were a Ukrainian watching our TV news I think I'd despair. We've turned inward again: sleazy men on TV belatedly getting their comeuppance; increasingly meaningless  statements from government; U-turns on climate mitigation policies coupled with the sight of Europe on the weather map, all coloured bright orange in a late heatwave. War? What war?

I grow old, I grow old ...