Bibs

Surrounded.  At ten minutes past one in the morning I was awoken by the sound of an accordion.  A young woman is staying in our flat and taking part in the coming week’s accordion course in Kirkwall.  She had travelled up to Orkney, from Bristol by train, and after a few delays the boat arrived in Kirkwall a piece after midnight.  She was collected by one of the course tutors and decanted at Creel HQ.  She has since advised me the reason she played it was to ascertain if her instrument had been damaged during her train journey.  I drifted off.  The next thing I knew, whilst sound asleep and watching Clare Balding make a jelly, the Current Mrs Creel crawled into bed at 4.00 a.m.  Well, you may ask what’s so unusual about that.  She had completed her walk that started at midnight, through the West Mainland, and back to Stromness.  She arrived back home wide awake.  The sponsored walk was really well supported.  Now - surrounded by accordions.  Late morning, in my study, reading my I Spy book of Obelisks, and I could hear CMC in one room and Eleanor in another room playing totally different refrains.  I didn’t refrain from going outside to cut the grass.  In a masterstroke, that I will dine out on for years, I’d seen a huge black cloud looming over Caithness and coming our way.  As I put the mower away the heavens opened.  And opened even more.  Bibs indicated that all sensible quadrupeds weren’t venturing outside, and she asked me to post yet another Blip of her.  Who am I to argue?