Charm school.

First light. I go down to the garage with a sack of rubbish from the kitchen. Later today I'll take it to the recycling centre. The garage is still full of partially sorted packing cases from the move back from France.  'Puppy' joins me there. She's ready for  a start of day adventure. 'Puppy' has no intention of leaving so she is finally picked up and carried, protesting, under my arm back along the track to the farmhouse. I plonk her in the garden and make sure the gate is fastened firmly. 'Puppy' gives me a look that makes it clear I could do with going to charm school.

Having been truly appalling the weather is now dry and warm. Small mountains of kelp are again lining the beach. It's difficult to say whether this is a new deposit or whether it's the residue from the gales that's been regurgitated by last nights high tide.

Down by the kirk the volunteer gardeners are making the most of the dry weather. The lawn has been carefully cut and the Remembrance Day wreath and crosses laid out. I congratulate them on their early start. " We've a lot of jobs tae catch up on after yon storms " says a man holding a plastic bucket of grass fertilizer. He then adds " Worst I've ever kent ".

There will be a procession from the front door to the war memorial on Sunday morning so the gardens have to look their best. In these conservative parts Remembrance Sunday is a BIG thing. Another of the gardeners, apropos of nothing, tells me that the Scottish regiments don't have the battle honours of the American Revolutionary War  embroidered on their banners. It seems many of the skirmishes were Scot on Scot and commemorating infighting with kith and kin was not considered 'correct'. I shall study the Black Watch flags on Sunday to see whether this is true or not.

The bakers window has a collection of meringue cases and , oddly, half a dozen small plates displaying a variety of beige coloured pastries. The butcher has a sign in his window saying ' Order your Thanksgiving turkeys here '.  Most Scots would have no idea what Thanksgiving is but  there's a brisk trade with American students determined to maintain standards. The butcher wonders aloud what puddings are eaten afterwards. 

Typical. The dahlias in the garden have resolutely failed to flower during the summer. Now that the skies are dark sixteen hours a day they decide to bloom.

Here's an unusual topic for a book. Pockets :https://www.insidehook.com/books/hannah-carlson-interview-book-pockets