It's not a Monday, but it is a rainy day - why does it always seem to rain on Wednesdays - my regular midweek golf day? It's certainly been that way for the last few weeks - every other day fine, but Wednesdays seem to get the worst of it. Oh well, nothing I can do about it.
Come to think of it, the rain did start last night. Jo took Luca home after tea and I was sitting there watching TV, listening to and watching the rain falling out the back. Suddenly, I noticed some bright evening sunlight lighting up the tops of the trees at the back - it looked lovely. I tried to capture it on camera, but I'm not sure I did it justice:
That one was without the flash - this was one taken seconds before when the flash was still on, which, of course, makes it seem darker beyond the range of the flash:
Which one looks better? I'm not sure.
Just to brighten up a dull day, would you like to see what Albyn sent me?:
It's all happening on 1st October - hope I recover in time for the wedding - can't miss out on all the dancing, can I? - and for my golf trip to Spain a week later. By coincidence, I go back to see the cardiologist on Monday 4th - I guess Jo will have to wheel me in then as well.
Well, I finally finished my tedious book last night - The Song is You by Arthur Phillips (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Phillips). I had bought it (and a few others) at our favourite bookstore in Medford in March, but never got round to reading it until recently. It's a relatively slim novel, although very wordy, but it seemed to take me ages to finish it - I guess it didn't exactly grip me, but I was determined to finish it - and I did. The last section was the only decent bit of the book. The critics' quotes on the cover kind of gave the ending away, which made things a bit worse, I think.
What else did I do while Jo was over at Inverurie? Well, I watched another couple of episodes of the re-run of Tony Palmer's All You Need is Love series, plus I finished watching an interesting 2 hour film about Donovan's life before going up to bed to finish my book. Jo was pretty late home and I was out for the count by the time she got back.
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