Whimsy on the lochside

Another deceptive sort of day - the sun was so hot in sheltered spots (like at my back door) but the northerly wind fairly pulled the temperature down. I was so sure when I contemplated today that I would do all manner of useful and organised things in the morning, so that I would have a feeling of achievement when it was over, but alas ...

Trouble was, I had a very odd night. At some point I woke, feeling very thirsty (maybe Himself's curry?) and reached for - wait for it - the mug of tea that I was convinced was sitting next to me on my bedside table. It felt rather odd ... there was a lid on it ...with a plunger on top... Nothing daunted (well, I was slightly daunted. Remember, it's pretty dark in the room and I didn't want to put on a light and disturb Himself) - anyway, I unscrewed something and put it to my mouth, tilting it ... and nothing came out. It had an odd smell. It put me off ... so I screwed the top back on and suddenly remembered my trusty water bottle on the floor beside the bed. It wasn't till I woke in the morning light that I realised to my horror I'd been trying to drink hand cream ...

Felt a bit queasy all morning just contemplating it. 

I made a loaf, organised some bits and pieces for holiday needs, like the wee bottle of detergent, the sun lotion... and then it was time for lunch. 

The photo comes from our walk this afternoon. We left our car in Di's garden - they were out, but I'd asked! - so that we could walk along the shore road through Blairmore and on towards Ardentinny. The bicycle with the Easter Bunny on it is a permanent fixture, though whatever/whoever is riding it is seasonal. It never fails to bring a smile - I think it's the people in the house across the road. Several houses on that stretch have undergone substantial renovation and redecorating - I imagine it's a sort of cyclical thing (sorry!) - and have also tried reclaiming the patch of grass between the road and the sea in front of their houses. There are some lovely wee embryonic gardens now, but also an alarming sprouting of clumps and patches of Japanese Knot Weed, which is A Bad Thing ...

Anyway, we had a lovely walk and sat briefly on a bench in Blairmore contemplating the birdsong-punctuated peace of this side of the water, while looking across at the cranes in Greenock and the superstructure of the cruise ship that later dominated the view as she sailed south, and thought about how lovely it is to have this huge expanse of very little as our hinterland, and the silence that comes with it.

The Handmaid's Tale is back, way beyond its original story now. What a depressing picture it paints - why do I have no trouble finding it credible?

Another question you don 't need to answer.