#homealonedaytwelve

I woke with a jump early this morning, thinking Alistair should have come in in the night, and somehow hadn't...
Then I woke properly and remembered he is coming home tonight :-)

So out early (for me!) with the dogs, and our adopted hometown is looking lovely in the clear autumn morning.
Kitty is unimpressed with a truncated walk (again!) and tears around the golf course for a few minutes. Cos she can't read the notices.

Off to the bus to Machynlleth a bit later and enough coverage most of the journey to get my emails seen to and 'chat' to Alistair, who is setting off from the west coast of Ireland for his long drive home. Ah, technology...how would we, how will we, manage?

In Mach I mosey around a bit and then realise I am in need of a) a coffee and b) a loo before the next thing...Cafi Alys to the rescue!

'The next thing' is a noon talk at Moma by lovely Irish artist and printmaker Deirdre McKenna, who hails from the area I know so well and where Alistair has been. Quite surreal, seeing films of the Dingle streets. I muse whether we should have gone that far to live ...and, if I were there, would Ben still be nine or ten and spending his holiday money on OASIS albums? Silly me...

Deirdre's work is about Celtic Connections, so it is all good, and I drift from there to the excellent Penrallt Bookshop, where I bump into a 'bender' acquaintance. And spend too much money and time...

Running through the rain to catch the bus home I buy random fruit and veg...an effort to prove to Alistair I really am Most Civilised...