Packed ...

No, no - not that kind of packed. No cases involved; I'm not going anywhere. But my day felt packed today. I may have mentioned in previous posts that I don't do well in the mornings - presumably because I sit here blipping at midnight instead of finding a sensible time during the day. So it was a gargantuan effort to be clothed and fed and in my more-or-less right mind for 10am, when our old friend Chis, the tenor of more singing than I can describe, with whom we've sung since the mid-1960s, arrived off the ferry and our more recent friend the soprano from Innellan arrived for a rehearsal. It wasn't a long one, as Himself and Eleanor had appointments at midday, but what was great was that even on our quiet first run-through the sound we were making was lovely, making me hopeful for when we have to sing in a dry acoustic on Thursday. 

The singing over, Chis and I sat and blethered till Himself returned and the three of us went out for lunch. We ended up at Benmore Gardens cafe, after which we took Chis back to the ferry. That's the subject of my main photo - I don't often stand at the ramp; usually I'm driving on or off or on the ship, but I thought it showed rather well the way all our journeys out of Cowal begin. It also looks benign today in the sunshine that was beginning to appear; there is no sign of the sad mystery that still hasn't been solved, of the man apparently lost from this or a similar ferry in mid-crossing. 

Then the two of us returned to the Gardens. We didn't feel much like walking - both of us were beginning to feel the effects of the day - but we were keen to see the exhibition of art created from ash trees: Ash Rise. The extra, a collage, shows just some of the wonderful pieces on display; my favourites are the amphorae of singed wood, in wonderful smooth shapes with an amazing smell of wood and fire. Well worth a visit - entrance to the gallery is free once you're in the garden. We had a walk round the lower areas afterwards, just because it was so beautiful and so quiet, though our legs were feeling leaden by this time. 

I fell asleep in the garden when we got home - I didn't even go into the house, but plonked down on the bench and drifted off. Much later I made some prawn pasta and managed to eat it - I'd been so tired I didn't feel at all like food. 

And the whole day has been punctuated by communications from Corfu and from Rwanda - Catriona seems to be fobbing off importunate club front men by speaking to them in French and Spanish, while Alan is being serenaded by about a hundred excited children waving flags. What a time they're having! 

Tomorrow there is nothing scheduled. I may have to shop for some vegetables, but otherwise I think we could just live off our humps. Or something.