Oddly hectic

How can a day with only one extraneous huvtae in it seem so busy? Is it something to do with the law of gases - occupying all the available space? I began today feeling that it might be a relaxed affair, with things being done neatly and not spilling over ... Fool! 

It began with my taking a selfie of the recent procedure on my tear duct. I did it in the shower room, where the lighting has all the intensity of an operating theatre, and was quite pleased with the results. After breakfast, I sent them off to the doctor who performed the procedure last week, and had a message back almost immediately, saying he'd phone between 11.30 and 12 noon. Now, having a deadline, I felt pressured, even though it was just fitting in washing up, having coffee, doing Italian ... and then he phoned, and I've to do the same in another week's time. 

Reassured by him that it would now be ok to go to the hairdresser, I rang them and managed to get an appointment tomorrow today (it's past midnight) at the end of the afternoon - I feel horribly shaggy. Then, having arranged to confer with a friend in the morning, I began work on my sermon for a week hence - I found it's a bit of a challenge when I looked at the lectionary. I know what I'd like to say, but ...And lastly I went down the road for the food items I'd forgotten about yesterday. Himself, meantime, was making a batch of chickpea dahl for the freezer. Lunch was at 2pm.

Much later, we went for a walk. We drove out to Benmore through torrential rain, with me looking at the radar part of the weather app and promising that the rain would stop soon. Sure enough, after we'd been parked for five minutes it stopped battering on the car roof and we set off to walk along West Loch Eck-side, only to have it come on heavily again. We paused under an enormous tree ... and it stopped. Properly. I took a photo of the River Eachaig, pounding past, and Himself walked on, past the cottages of gardeners in Benmore - and I took his photo. I love the smoke coming from the chimney on the left, the blue patch of sky and the puddles. We walked three miles without any further rain, and saw three red squirrels bounding across our path. It smelled wonderful; the mist hung on the hills above us; it was unbearably beautiful. 

If you're familiar with the watercolours of Ken Lochhead  you may remember that he often liked to insert a small red detail in a painting - a man in a red jacket, perhaps, or a red sail on a boat. I thought of that as I took the photo of Himself walking ahead of me...