What’s the Story in Dalamory

It has taken me nearly two months, but I have managed to lose just over half a stone. Mainly thanks to the encouragement of a slimming club. Everybody says that slow weight loss is good for you, but I would love to be able to run and jump and exercise the way I used to. However, the battle with fibromyalgia and getting older has to be faced and dealt with. So the thing to do is to celebrate the 8lbs and keep going. It is being helped this week as I try to engage in some retail therapy in the big city…… and having to climb up into the gods at the theatre tonight will also help. I shall let you know if I get down again

I have been half-heartedly watching the BBC TV Show Castaway for the last few weeks. Can’t say I am particularly impressed, though I like being reminded of many years of beach-type camping holidays in the Western Isles – Luskentyre – to be exact. However, after last night’s show I won’t be able to view it in the same light. There was considerable footage of rats running rampant during the night. Yeuch!

The soft rain falls as it has done for the past two days. A gentle rain. Much needed by the spring flowers and budding trees. I have been reading blogs from across the sea where the weather this Easter has been 20C below, and nearer home where sunshine warms the soul. And we all sit at our computers sharing our thoughts and hopes and dreams. And, Yes, sharing our hopelessness and anger at the outrages of poverty and violence. Somehow, the fact that we share……has got to be a start in making things better.

Ten pm seems to be Misty’s bedtime. The trouble is that she wants somebody to go with her. Not so bad when Fox has decided a night in is OK……..otherwise, I feel guilty at keeping late hours.

Happy Easter Monday

When Mary thro’ the garden went,
She sought, within the garden ground,
One for whom her heart was rent,
One who for her sake was bound,
One who sought and she was found.

Mary Coleridge 1861-1907

The capture of the navy personnel by the Iranians gives a good lesson on how the truth can be manipulated. I know that our good old BBC has its faults, but I am inclined to trust them in this case. Thankfully, the captives are now at home and can enjoy being reunited with family and friends. It makes me think of the hundreds of thousands of captives all over the world – young and old. It would be too easy to give up hope of a better world, but if Easter weekend is about anything it is about hope rising up in the face of darkness.

The weather is fine. The joiners seem to be on holiday.
And this is the state of the extension.

Fox (ginger tom) has to go and have his teeth cleaned and polished today. I think it is hi-tech, but it means he is out for the count. That is the only way to get your hands into a cat’s mouth.

Lying abed reading Gone with the Wind…..lost in a world of Yankees, Southerners and plantations….I hear the clanging of the cat flap. I look down at the bed to see an orange cat (Fox) and a scruffy dog (Misty- she is needing a haircut)…..  Ah….methinks…. but before my sleepy thoughts had figured out the conundrum, Him Behind the Wheel was yelling at the interloper. It was the white cat of doom. The one who keeps winning the territorial scraps with Fox.

Needless to say the white cat was booted out the door and the cat flap was locked for the night.

Presumably I am not the only person to be upset at the sight of a woman BBC news reporter wearing a headscarf whilst delivering her report from Iran.