The little things ...

No word on the compensation saga today - a respite from the flurry of phone calls and texts yesterday. I'm now fascinated by the British Airways Complaints Advice group posts on Facebook; I joined up to see what people were saying, even left a post which has since generated more discussion than I can be bothered following, but reading what the airline is doing every day to mess up people's itineraries would be enough to make anyone avoid the airline like the plague. 

So what did I do? Well for a start I slept in, so the morning was a tad shorter than it should have been. When I'd had breakfast I cleaned the silicone round the kitchen window, a window that is just too high for me to reach the top with the sink in the way, thereby necessitating the use of the kitchen step. There's this rather magic gel ... Anyway, it looks considerably better than it did. I made a phone call. I had coffee. And then, fortified by the coffee, I did what should be my last stint on the proof-checking of the Parish Profile as well as mailing an academic who wants to use a poem or two of mine as part of a translation project at a Romanian university. I also looked out some poems I might send, and brought my author profile up to date - anything other than think about airlines. 

After lunch Di came round and we went a walk round the Bishop's Glen - reachable on foot from our house - to discuss an issue that badly needed sorting out. There were dramatic bits of water everywhere, so I've chosen two samples - the wonderful peaty brown of the burn into the former reservoir, and the trees reflected in a huge puddle that was really a bit of a flood on the path. We got quite warm in the sun, though the temperature was only 11ºC and the wind kept spattering us with showers. At least we missed the hailstorm at lunchtime. 

And that was the day. By the time I'd thrown together a pasta dish for dinner I was aching all over with tiredness in a way all the swims and walks so far haven't produced - I think it was possibly a case of what a retired military friend told me was called "the sads" following a period of heightened tension. And my infuriating cough has come back, and I suspect it may be triggered by yet another excipient in a new batch of meds. I shall have to rake about for another brand and do a trial of my own ...

Tonight I need to sleep. Fingers crossed.