Reflections

Today was rather lovely, in a chilly sort of way - and now, at half past midnight, I notice that the mist that was shrouding us when I shut the door before I came up has dissipated again. Himself was up insanely early to be clothed and in his right mind for the washing machine men to come, as they did on the dot of 8.25am. (We live very close to the shop!) By the time I surfaced - for he had kindly left me to doze in bed with my mug of tea - they had gone, finding nothing wrong with the hose or joints along the back of the machine. They had suggested it might have a hole in the drum (or something), said the they no longer repair these ones, suggested we might just replace it ...

Reader, that is what we've done. We measured - it's a tight fit in our galley kitchen - and went out, stupidly leaving said measurements behind. We decided we might like the Bosch that was on show, went home for coffee and the dimensions, and went back, having decided it would STICK OUT. There's a model we've not seen arriving in the shop on Monday, so we're having it instead. It's a make I've never heard of, but it has a five year guarantee and might well see us out ...

Banishing such gloomy thoughts, we scoffed a bacon and hummus roll and went out to Benmore Gardens, where we left the car in their car park and walked round the gardens and out along West Loch Eck. The Giant Redwood Avenue, which we could see through the locked gates, is littered with fallen branches on the new grass that only seeded last year; one of the giant trees is broken beyond where we could see, and a passing gardener told us that was by no means the worst bit. We passed several fallen branches and splintered trees on our walk, but then emerged from the ravaged woods to the fabulous sight above. Loch Eck was completely still, with the headlands and their reflections creating a series of symmetrical V-shapes down the loch towards the snowy hills to the west. I took so many photos I had a rare job picking the one I liked best for today.

A little quilt of puffy cloud lay above a snow field on a high hill, and as we returned the way we'd come a mist formed over the fields round the River Eachaig and swathed us in chilly vapour - all very mysterious and romantic. 

So - a tiring day (again) but a very rewarding one, reminding me of why this is such a special place to live. (And no - not just because the electrical shop is five minutes' walk down the road!)