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But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
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   Saturday, October 27, 2001
Mournful: three rolls of film and about five decent pictures. The one of Sandeels Bay has come out well, I'm pleased. At the back of the bay is a steep cliff. I'd climbed it, then took a picture looking down on the bay - nice. Also, the photo developers are under the impression that I went off to Bali or somewhere, and they've turned the sea into that tropical green blue shade of sun warmed water over sand. One, repeat one, decent Staffa picture from a whole roll. One absolutely awful picture of me - well, actually, it's a dot - climbing a white cliff, taken from far too far away. A brillant photo of the Bay of Ivor's Cornfield. Surprisingly enough, a good picture of Crianlarich.

Got the bike back and took it down to college to matriculate. The brakes are certainly better, but the bike has a few nasty habits - I'm calling it Phosphorus.

Today ... up and down of a day, the up part being going out for a meal with daughter and dancing with her soft toy cthulu. Then we went off to the busk and I was so pleased I'd listened to her and not worn my original choice of clothing (I ended up with her biker leather jacket, steel toe capped boots, long trousers). It was absolutely bloody freezing. Durin's Day has come early. Drums and fire -- poi and dance. I enjoyed it a lot.

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   Thursday, October 25, 2001
The photographs come back tomorrow. The stone spiral design at St Columba's Bay had been dismantled, by humans or the sea I'm not sure, but I found the most marvellous stone to sit by me at work. It's a stone coil, made so by barnacle gnawing and battering from the sea, a mix of marble and serpentine, slightly rough and just large enough to be held in the palm of my hand and squeezed. I wondered if the other stone would feel jealous at being supplanted: it's oval, very cold, specks of serpentine in a marble matrix, but I can't bring myself to throw it out, I may have a ceremonial burial or may put it at a special place: the top of Whiteadder Water Valley or on the beach at Aberlady.

Samhainn is next Wednesday. I feel bad at not doing more, but felt there was the choice between putting the finishing touches to my presentation (=doing the actual work) or going to an organisers' meeting, and I'm afraid the presentation won. Still, busk on Saturday, run through on Sunday, get the buckets ready and have face paint ready, then all night carousing on Wednesday.

I took the bike to be repaired today, realising that wearing a long skirt is not the best cycling wear, especially when it's tight (it's a man's bike). In the end, I just pulled my skirt up and hopped on, then when I got off, I had to disentangle the skirt, thinking that it was exercise and therefore good for one. Still, the exercise was totally nullified by buying some Hallowe'en tarts (I just had to buy them for the chutzpah) - sugar pumpkin decorations, pink icing, black (blackcurrant?) sponge. They didn't taste particularly good, but it was the idea of them which was most fun.

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