Hydrangea envy

I'll begin with my silly title and the photo which inspired it - I took the photo above today at Toward Point - the strangely chopped-off house in the distance is just along the shore from the lighthouse - because these hydrangeas immediately reminded me that the ones in my garden, which were mature when we moved in 50 years ago, are always an insipid off-white colour, with barely visible pinkish tinges in the corners. This vibrant crew have obviously been fed some different substances and done their litmus-paper thing - I should ask the owner of the house, who might well be at Himself's Pilates class tomorrow. 

This came, of course, at the end of the day in which we'd both made it to church; Himself played but I refrained from any solo-singing because my voice reminds me of the feeble squeakings of an immature seagull. Afterwards there was much chat; people were kind enough to say how much they'd missed us last week, which is always nice. One of our wonderfully academic lay readers was leading the service today - we really have an extraordinary selection of people in our small congregation. 

Di, back from a holiday, came for coffee and much catching-up, after which we had a minimal sort of lunch and both fell sound asleep with our plates and mugs on the floor beside us. I felt I was drowning in sleep - clearly not myself yet! I caught up on some Italian when I managed to stay awake, and then we went for a sedate walk at Toward and watched the progress down the Firth of another giant cruise ship (see collage in Extras). Dinner was late because there's no hurrying a roast chicken and that's what we were eating tonight - and jolly delicious it was too. 

While it was cooking I watched the last, nail-biting moments of the women's football, irritated to discover that the female commentator had acquired all the more annoying practices of her male counterparts, right down to the ridiculous stuff about "coming home". It's a shame - it puts me right off, which spoils the enjoyment of women's progress in the sport. 

I didn't manage to watch anything to its conclusion on the telly - I was back to the dropping off by the time we sat down.