To the lighthouse

Running after foxes

Last minute packing has been interrupted by dog walking, or rather, dog running-off-into-impenetrable-undergrowth. When I need every second to get ready for my trip to Kerry tomorrow morning, I have to dice with timewasting. I'm pleased to be able to announce that Solaris Q Scuddamore, after a spate of nosing among dark tree roots, has finally returned to the safety of the garden/house.

Moral: don't walk a fidgety dog off the lead on a foxy summery evening when you haven't properly packed for an international music/poetry jaunt and have to get up at 5am.