Ahoy!

I feel a Bobby Darin song coming on...

Just had a nice picnic down the local sailing club where my nine-year-old nephew is busy becoming Ben Ainslie.

Just to draw everybody's attention to something: 

Just over two weeks ago, I was up to my ankles in mud (see thunderous sky above). Three days ago, summer suddenly arrived. I now have a golden tan and shorts on (blue sky below).

Confused?

More than a little.

A wee clippy wip below.

Still, surprises are sometimes nice.

Last night I was sitting there wondering what to do with myself, when a lovely text arrived.

"Are you home?" it enquired.

"Yes." I replied.

"Pub?" it asked.

The lovely Ms. Harri was back in town for one night only. Wonderful to catch up. I did break the drought with a glass and a half of bubbly for Mam's birthday, but by then I was back getting giddy on E numbers. I think something might actually be wrong with me. Is sobriety a recognised condition? Can I get counselling?

She asked whether my not drinking was payback for the months I endured her not drinking. I said I honestly couldn't remember her not drinking, I think I was drunk at the time.

Village life. We're such a cultured lot.

View from my room of Hollowell Reservoir.