Yesterday, being Sunday, we had a quiet day pottering about, Becky and I.
After an early morning jog (okay, that was just Becky), and breakfast, we set off for little stroll, along the GR131 long-distance path, to Orzola, at the far north end of the island – about 10km away. Passed through volcanic landscape, yet with many neat and apparently productive fincas/smallholdings, with innumerable walls or enclosure of volcanic rock providing shelter from the wind (and cold night?) for tender fruit trees or bushes.
Shelter walls, along the GR131, Lanzarote
That’s a bus shelter, by the way. Somehow I can’t see that particular design catching on in Uist.
At Orzola, we stopped for a ‘spot of lunch’, overlooking the harbour. It’s where the ferry to Isla Graciosa sails from, so we picked up an horario [timetable] – for another day when we feel more inclined to exertion and adventure!
Sunday being, by convention, a day of leisure, we had no desire to disturb tradition with anything more challenging than reading our map upside down and calling Holas! to the same old men tending their even older fields that we’d called Hola! to in the morning. So back to Màguez was just the 10km back as well.
So, no, we didn’t do anything much yesterday. It was Sunday, after all.
Not a doing sort of Sunday. More of a Being Sunday.
PayPal button going awry. Unhelpful for all concerned.
I investigated …
It wasn’t just the button for the new kit. It was almost all Add to Cart buttons!
PayPal seem to have changed the way scripts are processed, so that some coding practices which before conveniently delivered an aesthetically pleasing layout – and was apparently acceptable to PayPal (after all, they worked!), are now not.
Not acceptable. And not working. Dysfunctional.
A whole load of time lost today: identifying the causes, exploring solutions, implementing, testing. A lovely sunny day outside – warming sun, scarce any breeze, the promise of spring – sometime. And I’m sat at my desk with curtains drawn to keep the light of the screen, furrowed brow, an intensifying headache …
Heaven only knows when the buttons started dysfunctioning. We don’t have the time to visit our own online shop under disguise and see if it does what it should. I do wonder sometimes whether we actually earn enough to justify the time on all this kind of thing. Well, we don’t earn enough anyway, so I guess that answers that question!
No, we don’t do what we do just to earn money. We do it because it has purpose and pleasure.
March is an old English word meaning border – as in the Welsh Marches, or in describing one county as marching with another.
After 72 hours of constant gale-force to severe-gale winds from the south east, with everything chilled to the core and enveloped in a clinging damp that spreads like a virus – today was a relief. Soft winter sunshine, mild breeze …
Tilly and I made the most of it, with a walk following the northern marches of the Cille Bhrìghde Common Grazings.
The boundary was, anciently, marked with a bank of earth and stone, and behind it a ditch from which the bank was raised. The boundary marches close to a curious rock formation – The Perched Stone.
At three or four tonnes, boulder woud be more accurate. It will have left like this by the retreating glaciers, many thousands of years ago.