Yesterday was Boxing Day, spent in solitary splendour, lying about, occasionally doing washing and a little clearing up, eating and drinking and mainly, watching TV. Purchased a biscuit tin on Ebay with tartan sides and a photograph of Eilean Donan on top. This is a very spooky place where people used to be buried. On my one visit to Scotland in the nineteen seventies I saw this place, and it struck me as rather sinister at the time.
It was a great trip to the Highlands and Skye. Apart from staying in a tent and being bitten badly by midges, we were lucky with the hottest summer for years, I think it was 1976. Scotland was hotter than London. For some reason, when we spent hours driving the huge distances between one town and another in the Highlands, the experience of being able to see for miles ahead was very relaxing.
God, the recycling people have turned up unannounced. Lugged my stuff upstairs. Julian keeps squashing things for me to recycle. I have tried to explain that if I were to seriously recycle I would need a skip outside the flat,so I have been doing token recycling. This is because the containers are so heavy and awkward for me that I am in danger of falling while carrying them up from the kitchen to take outside, so I don't put too much in them. Julian suggested I left them outside the front door, but this just would look dreadful and annoy all my neighbours. The hall, of course is too narrow to leave anything there. It would be better if I lived in a block of flats - they just have one large bag for all recycling, rather than these large ungainly plastic containers and separate bags for paper as well. I am quite glad they have come - different company of course because it is a Sunday!
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