Eagle-eye view?

It never seems to be quite the right day to enjoy a slow start. Himself had decided that as I didn't put out the light till 1.30am we'd have one such today, with the result that I was scrabbling about in my dressing-gown trying to get a loaf going in the machine so that we could eat it at lunchtime, and the kitchen looked like a demolition site until we were having our coffee. Such drama ... 

Another little drama is playing out on my Duolingo results table, where for the first time since I started doing it I'm at the top of the Diamond league - but only just. I have to be very disciplined about doing the exercises at the optimal time to make use of my points and I fear it may be driving Himself crazy - there's one more day to go in this round. So I did some this morning, in the afternoon, and a little in the evening - we'll see.

We had a vague plan hatched to walk up to the church for the exercise and practise the song I'm singing tomorrow - but then we were seduced by the rugby and didn't get out until it was over. The friend we met in the church opined that Flower of Scotland is a hateful dirge, but I have to confess it makes the hairs on my neck stand on end when it starts - and again when the crowd sing the second verse unaccompanied and put in the flattened note in the last phrase that the pipes can't play. Listen, if you've never noticed - they did it well today. I was quite exhausted by the end of it - all that running about and charging into big Italians! But I heard them in the scrum shouting "destra! destra!" and knew what they were going to do...

It was while I was waiting to sing that I took the photo above for no good reason except that it's relatively unusual and looks quite dramatic. Not many people whip out their phone, after all, when they're about to read in church. I felt a bit like Philip Larkin* - I peruse a few /Hectoring large-scale verses - except that I didn't, and maybe I should have, as I'm reading tomorrow. Ah well. 

After that, it was home in the chilly dusk to check how #2 son's flight to Washington (I know!) was going - he's there now - and try on a few garments I'm thinking of taking on holiday: it's alarming how one can spread over Christmas, but it's ok and the smart trousers are still wearable. Phew. At some point soon I need to try to organise myself a bit or we'll never get anywhere. By the way, I was fascinated by the names of places under the flight-path to Washington once it was over land - a mix of English, Scottish and, I imagine, native names, as well as a great smattering of Old Testament ones. 

It occurs to me that today must be the equivalent Saturday to that on which we paid our last visit to the family before the first lockdown. We'd been helping look after  a poorly grandson (did he in fact have Covid?) while his parents were at work, had taken the chance on the Saturday to watch Catriona in a fencing competition nearby, and had driven home into the teeth of a gale listening to the rugby while the rain pelted down. We didn't see any of them again till the end of June. 

Tempus fugit and all that, but it didn't feel like it back then.

*Church Going