I don't know how they did it, but those midges managed to get to places doctors don't get to. Actually, for me, being the great lover of doctors that I am, that could mean anywhere. Okay, places where only lovers should go. If any family are reading this, that is a theoretical and artistic statement, not personal or subjective. I just read about it once in a book. I was so glad to see the sun shining through the perspex window of my beehive this morning. Thought it may deter them. No, midges like sun too.
Short day. I spent a fair bit of time wandering around Drymen in a sort of stupor, trying to work through the above plan in my head. All the snot and irritation that have moved into my head seem to be having a detrimental affect on my thinking ability. Get this. Drymen is not a big place. It has no cafes or bars with wifi (that I could find or be referred to), it has a public phone that can only and exclusively be used to make emergency calls and no private pay phones in any bar or pub: it is a communication black spot. But it has a public library with computers? What? Actually I did use one in Kirkintillloch too, but prior to that, the only library I saw had four wheels and was being driven by an erratic geriatric who nearly collected me on the road—that would have been an ironic death, killed by the books I love. This library was amazing. It had two staff members. One was ringing locals to make sure they knew Jim had died and were they okay, and did they know the funeral was today. The other called Gwen to let her know a great coffee table book highlighting, in pictures, the reign of Queen Elizabeth II had come in, and that she thought it was something Gwen may like to pop in and have a look at. But no, no more Jill Andrews' had come in, don't think she has written anything for a while.
Good night to Balmaha, good night to you.