A visit to the boy

On Sunday we took my mum to visit our son, who's a junior doctor in Dumfries, in south-west Scotland. He and his junior doctor girlfriend have been living for the past year at Rockcliffe, where her parents have a house. After lunch, we went for a walk along the shore.

It was a warm day but a bit hazy.

Here we are: Mr Life, Son with my mum and in front of them, Son's girlfriend, Daughter 2's actor boyfriend and Daughter 2. You'll notice I'm quite happy to post pictures of people's bottoms as long as mine isn't included.

This is the sea front; quite the prettiest one I've ever seen.

This is the view to the left.

More bottoms.

I would like this house. Do you think if I wish hard enough, some good fairy will give it to me?

This is that house's view.

Along a bit, we sat on a bench while Daughter 2 and her actor boyfriend went for a paddle. The tide was far out.

Then Son and his girlfriend followed.

On our way back the sun came out, which improves any photo.

Back in the garden, we noticed swallows* building a nest in the apex of the roof. That blurry thing with a forked tail just above...................here............... is one of the swallows. My camera isn't really up to action shots.

Daughter 2 and Son were having a chat and posed for a photo.

"How about one without the discarded socks?" suggested Son. Ok then.

I wandered off round the garden to take photos of the view.

And again. As usual, I wondered why I live in a city.

Sigh. Yearn.

"Let's have a rolling race down the hill," suggested Son to his sister. He's never one to lie around for long.

So they did, giggling hysterically.

And raced back up again. Son went sideways by mistake because he was dizzy.

Later, we had dinner at Kippford, on the other side of the bay.

And then we got in the car and drove the two-and-a-half hours home again.

In August they move to Glasgow to work in hospitals there. When will I ever get used to him not being with us any more?

* My brother says he thinks they're house martins, not swallows. I could look this up on Google but it's TOO HOT!

Guest post from Fifi: "Rockcliffe" - Episode 2

I thought Fifi's comment on my previous post deserved more prominence (hope this is all right, Fifi):

fifi said... On "Rockcliffe" this week, young Dr D finds that making soup is almost as hard as convincing wee auld Mrs McLatchey to take her heart medication. In his usual endearing manner he ineptly stirs pieces of vegetable forlornly around in his broth.Luckily for him, it's Isabelle to the rescue: turning up just in the nick of time with a big bunch of dahlias, a cauldron of hot soup and a package of....Gorgonzola!As usual the beautiful landscape is the real star of the show, though,luckily for Mrs Mclatchey, Dr D is a far better physician than chef.

Above, a pot at our front door, still blooming away in October - though the first frost will cut down the flowers.

Below, having enjoyed a nice combing session, Sirius relaxes on Mr Life's legs.

In our college we teach towards exams in English language and literature but we also teach vocationally-appropriate, practical English, to people doing all sorts of courses such as beauty therapy, preparation for nursing, business studies, computing and so on. My preparation for nursing students - all young and jolly but not necessarily academic giants - were doing an assessment. ("Hollyoaks", by the way, mentioned below, is a soap opera, which I myself don't watch.)

Student 1 [looking up from the article she was reading]: What's schizophrenia?

Me: Well, it's a psychiatric mental condition -

Student 2: It's what Newt's got in "Hollyoaks".

Student 1 [completely satisfied]: Oh, right.

Student 2 [nodding conspiratorially to me]: Talk to them at their own level.