For the last two days I have had about forty-seven conflicting thoughts in my head, which I have been trying to wrangle into a coherent and stimulating post for you, and I must freely admit that I have failed miserably. Then yesterday people decided they were coming for lunch. I very much like people for lunch, but it is a little complicated on a school day, and I then further complicate matters by deciding that instead of just giving them ham and salad like a normal person, I must make an Italian feast in the manner of a Neopolitan lady on a Saint's day. Five different dishes were presented. Five. What is wrong with me?
All of which is very long way of saying there is no written blog today. But I hate to leave you with nothing for so long, so as way of diversion - here are some pictures of my dogs, sunbathing. This is surely everything which the dyspeptic critics accuse blogging of being: ephemeral, narcissistic, and of really no possibly interest to anyone much. Or: pointless, witless and feckless, and my friend S and I used to chant at each other when we were young. But there, we can't all be pointful and incisive every day. And they are such ravishing creatures. They might not be entirely useful, but they are beautiful, thereby fufilling at least half of William Morris's rule for life.
That is actual Scottish sunshine. It has been going like that all day. Sometimes I have to look twice to believe it is real.
