No boat off the island today; not even if we wanted to. Not that we actually wanted to – preferring instead to have a quieter day. Not that the day was any less nice. We had a bit of a lay-in and a leisurely start to the day. Emma was determined to figure out how the stove worked to get it going.
I had one of those nice sort of days when I got to catch up writing my journal for the holiday – including also an account of our wedding day. I had the chance to dip between the current novel John Harwood’s The Seance, which after a quiet start is picking up pace with some quite chilling scenes; I also read some more of Monty Hall’s account of bothy life in Beachcomber Cottage.
Whilst Emma did some drawing in the afternoon I worked on the beginnings of my Mr Tumnal story. I’ve decided to write it long-hand, in ink in the nice leather notebook that Mum and Dad gave me for my birthday.
We had an early-ish dinner; our smoked kippers from Mallaig, lightly fried in butter and lemon juice with salad and tatties. After dinner we went out for short stroll down to, and around, the lilly pond; the lilly pond which actually is a sizeable damn which used to power the sawmill.
On the way back up to Red Cottage we see a red deer buck charge down out of the woods and across. Later in the evening we see Mr P. Martin once more (having already seen him for a spot of lunch earlier on).
