Going Gently

No Chatter

It’s warm, almost hot again today but with a breeze.

I’m happy to be alone today.

I don’t want to chat or talk.

I have spoken to Gorgeous Dave and have finalised arrangements for tomorrow.

Out of all of my friends he’s probably the most easy going so things will be fine.

Apart from him, I don’t really want to talk to anyone else.

I walked the dogs early when it was cooler and picked up my antibiotic prescription .

But I was happy to return home. Dorothy is sleeping on the back patio . Mary is dozing in the front window, with one eye out for flying insects, things she most obsessed with .

From time to time, I can here the snap of her jaws as she tries to pluck a bluebottle from its flight.

I’ve got paperwork to do, the lawn needs a cut and I’m going to play with my sister’s birthday pressie , the Concertinaed garden hose, as the flower beds are so dry.

But apart from that I’m just going to potter

All is ok with the world

As long as no one wants to chatter

In The Office

My office window is full of houseplants.

They shield me from the view of the nasty new cottage behind Bwthyn y Llan

I’ve been meeting my fellow students on line this morning.

I start my counselling course in September.

I particularly liked the look of two of them.

Kind faces, nice way about them.

I had to sneak off for a few minutes as there was an urgent knock at the door, One villager I know was having a bit of a panic attack and suddenly needed to go to the next village for a prescription.

We have just arrived back all calm.

Calming panic attacks is something I do well…I have the boring voice for it.

An old friend is coming to lunch in half an hour and so I’m making her a chicken and mango salad to eat outside in the sun.

I’m catching up with another friend later.

But I said I won’t be eating or drinking alcohol if I go out.

I want to lose some weight

I have always been chunky but once in the groove that is healthy eating I can shed the pounds like a good un…..my downfall is shift work where discipline goes out of the window when tiredness and apathy take over.

( and before the lectures start , I don’t begrudge my haggis and black pudding breakfast in Findhorn the other morning….it was bloody lovely)

Before my guest arrives, I’ve managed to book tickets for a guided tour of the Colosseum for Saturday. Fabio the concierge from our hotel suggested it. We have been corresponding by email for weeks now like clandestine lovers. He works the night shift and likes to add to his emails, little flourishes of interaction , such as “ John ! You are emailing late this evening” and “ I hope you are not flying easyJet, always a poor service given”

I may be a sad sack and send him a Christmas card…..

I feel happy today. Happy that things seem to be clicking into place.

My nephew has just informed me that the Dr Who experience ,I had treated him to in between comic con visits was cancelled ….I’ve booked us to see My Fair Lady instead which will be nice as neither of us has never seen it.

I’m so pleased, I thought I might have been all Sci fi-ed out!

Getting Home

This story is not an exaggeration ….for sure…it’s all pretty true

Honestly …..for sure

The plane journey from Inverness to Manchester Airport was a delight…..though our single steward was a moody bastard.

I was off the plane first and literally 7 minutes later was walking down to the train platforms where various uninterested staff shouted over that all the trains into Manchester had been cancelled because of an “ incident”

All passengers were directed onto a unknown quantity of a Manchester tram system.

It was chaos for only a handful of people knew what to do.

Hundreds of people crammed onto the handful of trams .

I knew I needed to be at Piccadilly so rang my friend Nigel in nearby Stockport for help .

He told me where to go which was completely different to what a very loud young mother with a baby in a pram was telling everyone . She wanted to go to Preston eventually and had a big following to keep on to Victoria because she was confident and loud….she went on to Said stop , where as I, following Nigel’s advice jumped off at Market Street

It was like a disaster movie

Me and a young, sturdy legged student physio from Helsby led the charge. An Asian chap from Chester who kept saying that he was taking Tuesday off sick followed with , a retired professor from Bangor ( who had just been to Nice with her daughter ) they were then followed a couple of trendy tattooed girls who knew where they were going followed by an old rather bemused and a bit tipsy couple from Cheshire with too much baggage.

And we galloped across central Manchester for Piccadilly

It was obvious that the old couple was slowing us up , so the trendy girls and Asian chap took control of their luggage and as a group we managed to get to Piccadilly with 12 minutes to spare.

Piccadilly was in chaos

But eventually the unnamed physio, Bangor Prof Caroline, The Asian chap ( who I found out was called Sidharth ) and Hilary and Howard from Frodsham who was still helped by one unknown trendy gal with tattoos all made it more or less home .

What fun lol

People come up trumps when needed

Don’t they ?

A Thought or Two

This morning Ruth went back to work in the greenhouses and I took myself down the coast towards the village of Findhorn.

I go home this afternoon.

I wanted to see red squirrels in the pine trees skirting the sand dunes but only managed to see the pointed heads of a couple of seals well beyond the surf .

The Findhorn Foundation has been an interesting experience.

Like everything in the modern world the community has had to evolve in covid times, with redundancies hitting the staff hard during lockdown and a change from volunteer staff in key positions to salaried staff who have pensions, bills to pay and corporate ideals to juggle alongside the foundations’ community beliefs and shared objectives for personal growth and a healthy lifestyle.

I can see the appeal.

There is a warmth and a camaraderie here, even though two of the main public meeting ( and community eating buildings )were set alight and destroyed last year by a disgruntled ex employee, there is still a sense of community very much evident. The new corporate, eco friendly and expensive private housing lies a stones throw from the huts and caravans where I slept last night and in one of a beautifully appointed rental house, I was invited into, I spied a 50 inch Tv alongside the homegrown plants and eco friendly decor .

Findhorn is like any community. You take from it what you want to but unlike every community there is a lot going on at the get go.

That is part of its strength and a little of its weakness, I think

For its easy to forget the real world that lies beyond the Sandhills, and out of sight of the pine trees and the hobbit houses almost hidden away in the glades of wild flowers.

Beach Day

It’s been a mostly beach day today.

After a fat bastard breakfast which included a slice of the most delicious haggis, we had a tootle around an art gallery at Logie Steading before settling down over looking the Moray Firth

An Evening In The Community

A strange , hypnotic shuffling Mexican dance troupe LostheUltramar took over the community this evening .

Drank beer and followed their odd Latino rhythms until it finally started to rain

Scandi Noir

As it turned out it was fortunate that we were delayed last night.

Only twenty of us caught the shuttle up to Inverness so over a nice coffee and “ just one biscuit” we all found ourselves looking at the clouds in a strange , almost ethereal twilight where the clouds heaved up and down like a vast dark ocean above a sky of blue and pink and orange.

It was simply….stunning,

I can’t describe just how beautiful it was, I really can’t.

Anyhow, Ruth is part of the famous Findhorn Community (https://www.findhorn.org/) here

And is spending her time gardening in the allotments and poly tunnels as she heals after the death of her mother. She knows the foundation and many of the community well and lives a simple life in a 1970s Scandinavian-sequel caravan deep in the woods, not far from the sea.

I do feel that I’m on a TV set of the scandi thriller and am just waiting for “Helmi”to be walking past, donned in a beautifully knitted top and platt to die for.

The place is silent save for the roar of the wind.

We are going to some sort of dance festival this afternoon and soon I will help Ruth check the poly tunnels and greenhouses before we have breakfast in the cafe and a walk down to the sea.