A red letter day.

Watched episode two of The Diplomat on Netflix last night. In her role as ambassador Kerri Rusell is  brilliant . In fact that's not true. She's taken a so so script and made it more than brilliant.  Staging is magnificent in a  'no expense spared'  sort of way. Maybe the plot line is a bit thin but now we're this far into it we'll carry on watching. 'The Font' enthusiastically likes it. Angus thinks it's interesting.

Saturday 22nd April a red letter day. At dawn the first , solitary, swallow of the year flies overhead.  Summer is on its way although someone has forgetten to tell the wind which is blowing from the north with arctic ferocity.

The farmer and his team are also up early. Six am and three tractors  busy deep ploughing the large field between the wee cottage and the sea. They packed up at nine last night. This will be the fourth day they've been at work in the field. The farmer is forever heading back to the tatty barns for more seed potatoes. The gulls are loving it. After sunset the nomadic crows and the herring gulls had a real ding dong of a fight for control of the skies above the furrows. The noise they made was impressive. This morning the nomadic crows have gone and the herring gulls have the juicy grubs to themselves. Herring gulls: 1 - Nomadic crows :0

After breakfast dog and master head out of the house, down the track and then onto the hawthorn lined path that leads over the raised beach and down to the sea. 

For much of the year the hawthorn is the most mundane of Scottish trees but for three brief weeks it bursts into spectacular bloom. Its flowers not unlike fresh snow. As we head through the white branches of the hawthorn thicket I tell Sophie this is what heaven must look like . My words are wasted. She's spotted a seal on the rocks and is too busy  heading along the path in pursuit to pay attention. It takes her a few moments to understand the seal is in the water. Her enthusiasm for the chase quickly evaporates.

Town busier this morning. We watch the world go by from the street side window in the student cafe. The espresso is truly dire.  It's worse - it's undrinkable .

We take one sip , grimace and head  off to the new Italian coffee shop next door to the kilt makers. Sophie doesn't object. She is now recognized as a local in almost all the coffee establishments and gets not one , but two, slivers of shortbread. For the family diva life just keeps on getting better.

Down on the big beach we've missed the usual crowd of early morning walkers. Sophie has the sand to herself. So starts a Saturday with a happy Polish Lowland Sheepdog on the windy North Sea coast.