What’s the Story in Dalamory

Holiday Sunday.

A wet day today – so I decided to make the sporty top. I had forgotten how long it takes to do the cutting out properly, then there was the small matter of having to discover and practice appropriate stitching for the material….the upshot is that I have managed the cutting out and two seams.

More another day.

Mel's Gibson's The Passion is o­n at Oban this week. Even although I am o­n holiday, I do not think I shall be going to see it. The last twenty minutes of Braveheart were more than I could stand, and I had to go out of the room. I am a wimp over screen violence. That is what comes of having a literal nature.

You can't pop out of the cinema to make a cuppa either.

The weather is still too wet and misty to contemplate an outing, so today is probably going to be a Craft Day. It is time to pull out the fleece material I bought recently, and try to make sense of a pattern for a top. Years ago I used to make clothes to save money; interesting that nowadays it is about having a hobby.

Today is the start of my spring holiday week. There is a long list of things I would like to do, and this is split into wet-weather and dry-weather options. The main thing is to get up early in the morning so as not to waste any of it.

Now what shall it be today?
Whatever it is, it is time for tea first.

The Easter Sunday services were packed out – the visitors must have read the blog!

Yesterday was a day of recovery and pottering in the sunshine. Friends were staying with us so the highlight of the morning was taking the dogs to the glass beach at Ellenabeich. It was interesting to note that the female members of the party (including the dogs) had far more patience for gathering wave-washed glass than the males. When displayed in a glass jar (meant to be for spaghetti), the bits of glass look beautiful. It can be a whole new hobby: for instance, blue glass is extremely rare and creates great excitement when it is found. And I find myself wondering what else can be done with the pieces. Still….beauty out of rubbish is not a bad metaphor for the world.

Easter Sunday – that most special of days. Even for those of little or no faith, it still has a special feel. Spring is well and truly blooming, new life is all around. The Captain is busy working o­n his boat, in other words he is trying to put it back together again in readiness for the launch. No word yet of when that will be, but it is definitely later this year than usual. I am looking forward to my holiday next week – not going anywhere special, just the thought of doing nothing much.

Happy Easter!

Yesterday was Good Friday. No entry, after all what do you say o­n that day other than, Why do they call it good?

Today, the weather has turned fair and warm. In fact, I have just had my morning coffee sitting outside. Sheer magic. There are a lot of tourists in the area for the Easter holiday. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they would come to church tomorrow?

I have stopped calling the cat a murderer – this weekend is all about forgiveness.

This is a picture of the perpetrator of the crime against bunnies. As usual, he looks haughty, totally in control of his world and not in the least guilty. He is called Fox after a character in the X-Files (Fox Moulder I believe), and was obviously not named by me. Sometimes I wonder why he lives here at all. Then I remember the years of living in an old manse in the country where mice were a problem every time we were without a cat. Although we live in a modern manse nowadays, I am not taking any chances. Reluctantly, I have to admit that he usually is good value for money.

But how do I convince him that we do not need any further furry food offerings?

Please note that I do not have a picture of the victim.

Please also note that my work trays are often in the same kind of state as they are in the photograph. Paperclog is a constant problem, but I am working o­n it.

We have a murderer in the house. Let me explain – last night a plate of delicious berries were defrosting o­n a plate o­n the worktop. I went through to prepare supper and let out a shriek. Next to the plate was a headless something….there was blood (or was it blackcurrant juice) smeared all over the worktop in amongst muddy paw-prints. The culprit was the cat (he is called Fox, just to confuse everybody); the victim was a baby rabbit. Needless to say supper was spoiled.

Never mind – at least the offering was not a rat.