Talking rubbish.

Took a stroll up to the dunes this morning. This is the first thing I see, before the golden sand and the blue sea. It is what frustrates me most, partly because I haven't picked it up already and then because of the pain that will surely follow bending down to pick each little piece of it up. Bagging the bruck can be quite easy when it's bottles and knots of rope, but when you're sifting through dry tangles to winkle out a shotgun cartridge or a plastic lid, it is monotonous and takes ages to fill a bag. R.S.I. of the vertebrae is not an ailment that I want to toy with.

A neighbour of ours has a mechanical claw on a stick so that she can get to them without needing to bend down. She also has a trolley on wheels for her shopping. I reckon I have twenty years on her so I'm in no rush to acquire either, however sensible they sound.

Took Hippocrates over on the boat to pick Gail up from the hostipal in Kirkwall. Did some shopping while I was there. There now follows a period where we eat like royalty for about five days before we start chewing on the furniture again.