Gone Fishing

Mr L bounced out of bed this morning (oh, how I hate early morning enthusiasm!) and was out of the door and up the road with his fishing gear before I could say “Tight Lines”.  He walked through the forest to the loch whilst I tackled the washing up and the laundry etcetera. Then I made him a sandwich and took Nell out for a walk to deliver lunch. The idea was to drop the sandwich off then come back home and tackle Cézanne. Things did not quite work out that way…

The day dawned frosty and sparkly but the soon was soon up and shining. I entertained myself with my camera as the washing tumbled.

Enthused by my early session, I decided to take the camera out with me later. This meant I could only handle one walking pole because I had Nell’s lead to take care of too. After  a poor night’s sleep I found the going tough and I trudged through the forest very slowly. This did not stop me from taking full enjoyment and playing with the camera of course.

I gave the old man his lunch and let him persuade me to sit and linger until he was finished with the fishing and walk back together. So poor old Cézanne still requires my attention and tomorrow will be pretty much my last chance because apparently today is not Tuesday as I had believed it to be. However, it was nice, if cold, sitting there in the quiet forest by the lochside, conversing with the robin population. I was sorry to have put away my camera when a small flock of Coal Tits descended on the tree branches above my seat. They were utterly charming.

Dinner was pulled from the freezer – mince and tatty leftovers from last week. I made Yorkshire Pud again. Yum, yum.