It was a bit of an uninspiring day. Gusty winds again and the threat of showers that never came.
I just couldn’t get out of the bit today. Nothing physically wrong, I just could not shift myself from the sofa. Maybe it was the thought of driving in to an evening dance at Brookfield that failed to inspire me or maybe it was a hangover from yesterday. I still had the sore back, and I think that is caused by carrying a heavy camera bag. Maybe I should listen to my body more!
Eventually we did the same as yesterday and walked down to the shops to get dinner. I had decided to have a venison steak that had been languishing in the freezer since May, but I had no appetite. Then Scamp suggested something simple like a baked potato and that worked for me. It was a heavy bag I was carrying back from the shops and was reluctant to hand it over to Scamp, so we both walked home, with me carrying a bag with two bottles of no-alcohol (and no-taste) beer and a heavy camera bag (then I wonder why I’ve got a sore back!).
When I got home I just turned around and walked halfway round St Mo’s, then back again, about half an hour it total, but happier now that I had a couple of fairly decent shots in the bag. PoD went to a Common Drone Fly, or so said Mr Google and friends, lunching on some cow parsley flowers. By the time I got back we just had enough time to have a baked potato each and then we had to get ready for the evening’s entertainment.
We were driving the Brookfield, but as we were driving out of the estate I saw the big splat of seagull diarrhoea on the passenger side of the windscreen. A couple of scooshes of screen wash told us it was stuck firm and there was no point in damaging the wiper blades on it. A job for tomorrow. On the M80 first it was a police car with blue lights on travelling in the same direction as us, next a 40mph speed restriction flashed up on the overhead gantry then about two miles later the next message was “Pedestrians”. Never a good thing on a motorway. However for the rest of the drive in to Glasgow there was no sign of police vehicles or pedestrians. We carried on regardless. Of course everyone had obeyed the 40mph sign 😉
The rest of the journey was just normal Saturday evening busy. Until we came to the Irvine turnoff, our turnoff. Then ahead was two lanes of red lights for as far as we could see. For the next five miles it was first gear and stop, first gear and stop. Then the blockage seemed to clear and we drove the rest of the way unhindered. We later discovered there had been a two car crash somewhere ahead of us and we were the lucky ones who joined the queue when it was at least moving, if slowly.
The dance itself was really great fun, mainly because we were at the same table as Barry & Cath plus Cath’s sister and Niahmat & Audrey and another couple we’d met at a dance weekend in Perth. The table was a bit congested, but the jokes and laughter lifted the evening. We danced a few ballroom dances and, I think, all but one of the sequence dances. For once, the night really flew in, although as we neared the Last Dance there was a bit of a lull sometimes. As if the energy had gone out of the night.
I almost always enjoy driving home at night from a Brookfield dance. Absolutely no need to drop out of 5th gear, even across the Kingston Bridge. We parked and I had a wee dram while Scamp, unusually had a decaf coffee before bed. Something in the dancing put my back right again and something about the night put me on the right road.
Tomorrow I might was the car, or the windscreen at the very least.