Dashed

I think today grew colder as it progressed. The cloud that had drifted overnight had retreated across the water by the time I was out of my bed, and by night-time there were only a few picturesque streaks of cloud in a clear sky. There wasn't much wind, but it's moved northward - it must've been listening to the weather forecast - and tonight my watch tells me it's 1ºC and the heating's gone off for the night.

I was preaching at church this morning, in the lay-led services which allow for our sister charge on Bute to have our rector every fortnight. People seemed appreciative - when you hear a ripple of laughter at some small witticism you know they're with you - but it occurred to me that some folk clearly don't realise (or don't care) just how much someone standing in the pulpit sees while they're preaching - especially, perhaps, when the preacher is a former schoolie who can spot inattention and distraction at a thousand paces ...

But enough of that. I enjoy preaching, and I enjoy singing, and as long as both fulfil a need that's enough for me. We had an interesting time escaping from the car park with our car intact and Di came for coffee and helped us finish off the birthday cake, as delicious now as it was when we began it. 

We went out for a walk partly to walk off the cake and give us an appetite for dinner, heading south again towards the sunset - we were too late to catch any sight of the sun itself. As it was so late and we'd had a busy morning, we chose to walk round the Toward triangle at the lighthouse, enjoying the appearance of the tiny moon among the branches of the huge trees, then above the lighthouse itself, and finally - as in this photo - above the dark shape of the Arran hills under a tuft of cloud and - off to the left - the Rothesay ferry heading back to Wemyss Bay. 

It was while we were having a cup of tea to warm us up again that the email came through from the travel agent to tell us that the holiday cruise had been cancelled. As I said yesterday, the ship was stuck at Suez, having debarked all its passengers; the latest map update seems to suggest that it's heading for Greece tonight. The mail was very proper, emphasising our security and safety which they feel they can no longer guarantee, and promising a phone call before the end of Wednesday. 

To say that I'm totally fed up is an understatement. The way I feel tonight is not to be properly expressed in a polite social network such as this. I've once had to cancel a trip because of a slipped disc; we lost a holiday in Malta as Covid spread across Europe, and another one last June when the flight changes made it too difficult for us. I don't know what the company will come up with when they phone, but I'm not hopeful. The only cheering thought came in the form of a plan put forward by the enterprising entrepreneur that is my younger son, but that's another story.

If I stay up later, I'll not be fit for Pilates in the morning, so I'll channel my inner Forrest Gump now. That's all I gotta say about that ...