Emblem of Fidelity

Someone is a dear little Emblem of Fidelity in these parts, and I rather think it’s the Professor. Despite the fact that it is 1) the end of the first week in April and 2) snowing, he has taken Miss Dog for a walk. It was rather less disgusting earlier on, so we went off for a jolly – we have a young friend in hospital whom the Professor is keeping supplied with knitting wool, so we were due a visit to the wool shop, but there was, beyond that, a sense that between mountains of work and the weather, we had simply got into the habit of sitting in front of our respective computers from morning to night. We were reminded of the unwisdom of this by the extremely sad and sobering spectacle of one of the Professor’s quondam graduate students who has recently had a stroke, having barely taken a day off or had a full night’s sleep for about ten years. Out of general rottenness and lack of consideration for others (I quote) we decided not to take Miss Dog. She loves riding in the car, but after really not very long at all, you start getting whine, whine, are we there yet, and it’s very distracting, especially if the journey is conceptualised as a lengthy one not involving going for walks in the forest. Having attained our first objective, acquired some eau de nil silk and had a bite of lunch, we set off over the Cabrach, which is one way of telling oneself it’s spring, since it’s a mountain pass, of the sort that’s pretty much impassable in winter. It was a fine, if bleak, spectacle, with ramparts of snow on either side of the road, dark purplish-black heather moorland, mottled with snow, and high silver hills rising beyond. Not a sign of new growth on the heather, or anything. Then we dropped down from the high moors into  Dufftown to visit our antiquarian friend, where, alas, we were inclined to be negative about various items he wasn’t sure about – he said he was quite pleased to have an opinion, but I do rather wish that one of his geese had turned out to be swans. What I think made it all a bit better waa that he hadn’t actually bought the objects in question, but was thinking about them. When we were making our way home, it came on to rain, then sleet, then snow. I keep thinking that if there’s one day of sunshine our daffodils will start coming out, but they haven’t.