Blow, winds ...

'Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! ... ' King Lear must have been listening to the same symphony of natural violence as were we at 04.00 this morning. (Crack your cheeks? Old maps always showed a face with distended cheeks built into cloud to indicate the prevailing winds.) His cheeks were certainly fit to bust last night. Storm force or higher and with strongly driven rain, lightning and thunder dramatic enough for me to leave the comfort of bed, scurry atound the house removing electrical plugs to TVs and PCs. Living as we do close to the edge of the sea, across the sea being just the Hebrides until you reach Canada, we enjoy a very close, sometimes worrying relationship with old Mother Nature.

But this morning the wind has dropped and although the sea is streaked with white there are some lighter breaks in the cloud cover. It's just as well. Inverness airport security permitting, Dee will soon be up there on route to the south for a few days visiting her Mum and Sis and Son and a Friend. She'll arrive home thoroughly exhausted on Saturday.

Never mind. With B&B business tapering down and P&P ditto we could both do with some R&R.

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