If it's Saturday it must be ...

Glendaruel. I don't think I've ever mentioned Glendaruel in all the years I've been blipping; it's a glen and a clachan that we usually whisk past on our way to the beach where I like to bathe, or to Tighnabruaich that day we boarded PS Waverley there, but today our destination was the village hall in this lovely glen. I had a date with a Songs of Praise organised by a friend from church; she wanted me to speak at it. So having seen Sarah off to Holy Trinity for the art open house, and having printed off my sermon for tomorrow, we were off in the car to arrive only slightly late because of being stuck behind a camper van and then because of the poor silly grouse on the road. I cheated slightly in my talk - I was able to use a piece I once wrote for Inspires, or for a website, perhaps - anyway, I had a suitable account all ready to be delivered so that was one less task. 

All went well; a lovely varied crew of people met after the meeting over nibbles and coffee and I was aware I was having the most unsuitable day's eating in a long time - all carbs and sweetness. We had a short walk along what I suspect was the old road before going home in the car - the photo comes from that. It was sunny in the Glen, and remained sunny all the way home to just outside Dunoon, when we were back under the cloud that has plagued us for two days now. 

We subsided for a couple of hours in front of whatever was on the telly, then the three of us set out to walk down the road to Paddy's for dinner - a jolly evening at which at least four of us were completely knackered but somehow blethered away and ate far too much before we marched back home.

I have one more speaking engagement in tomorrow's sermon, then I'm not going to say anything for a week. 

Fat chance ...