Tuesdays = flute lesson day and then into town for our messages (shopping and stuff).
The usual. We have no lives, just our routine which I, for one, adore (obviously if I could bring Lambie, it would be perfect but perhaps Lerwick is not ready for one woman and her smiling sheep).
Since my back disintegrates with no prior warning, plus that ridiculous anaphylaxis (again with no prior warning), my comfort zone is narrow. As I write this, I realise I am pretty pathetic, but hey, that’s how I roll these days.
Obviously, when I have to, I get my big girl pants on and do whatever is required – see next week when I go south. But, if I can get away with it, I tend to be a stay-at-home bird. You just never know what’s around the corner and I, for one, don’t want to know.
So, having said that, today, I had a few messages in Gulberwick – a village 2.5 miles south of Lerwick.
I took the opportunity to explore.
I was very taken with this old graveyard which has no apparent means of access, apart from over the fields. This worries me. How do they get there? Is it still used?
You can see Bressay, the island at the back.
A fierce rain shower came in.
There was a wonderful shed just sitting there.
And then a warning to the shed to stay standing because we all know what can happen in bad weather.
Perhaps I need to get out more and yes, I did enjoy myself.