This family seems to have a preoccupation with their feet. I
have read its a Pisces trait.
Subtle reminders of absent friends.
The church garden was obviously loved and blackbirds had greeted me earlier in the morning. Later in the day the gardener was present and happy to be photographed. Somewhat rudely I asked her to turn away from the camera so I could photo the parrot bag she had on her back.
A little difficult to see in these photos but rabbits abound in Port Elliot.
Of course, it may be seasonal... Shrove Tuesday today I think.
This is a house which I love and have earmarked for a Cox family holiday.
Just to prove The Strand is not always deserted. Most of my fellow tourists seem to be from China, Germany or Ireland. The locals seem largely to be my vintage, earnestly riding bicycles to pick up the newspaper or walking dogs... Fortunately there are also the surfers.
This is a miniature statice which is abundant but I have never noticed before.
While I was sitting quietly reading my book on that half circle bench in the previous post, strange creatures thundered up and down the steps. Red, blue, yellow and green teams of some pursuasion (there's no escaping Jane Austen) brought back traumatic memories of school sports. The blues had decided to come as octopi. I asked no questions. Typical Freebairn. Fairburn? Firebrain? Go Wellington!!!
I'm not sure if this accounted for the presence of Inspector Rex. There were rumours of a mysterious ruddy burglar...
Here is my monastic room. What you see is what you get - plus a wardrobe.
The sea air went to my head and I went on a spending spree. The bookshop is always hard to resist in Port Elliot. So civilised. I went in for a cup of peppermint tea and 2 books begged to come home with me.
I could never work in an animal shelter.
The Strand at night. Drying bathers on the window sill.
Bliss.
A fox crossed my path on the drive home.
