Susan's mum was taken very poorly overnight, and that meant that Susan's long-awaited Easter holiday was cut brutally short. As was poor old Martha's, who accompanied her on the last-minute flight home this lunchtime. Thank goodness for the Air Discount Scheme. I couldn't go because...oh, it's complicated: James is in Tenerife with a pal, he has to be picked up in Edinburgh on Wednesday for National Youth Orchestra duties, then retrieved on Saturday, and put on a 'plane home a week on Monday. There's no boat home for me until a week on Thursday. Barring emergencies.
Anyway, Audrey (Gran) seems to be a wee bit better, which is good. I spent the afternoon perusing the delights of the Clyde Shopping Centre (Subway, Next Clearance, TK Maxx, Lidl, Aldi, Asda, Fopp - all the sweets of being). The availability of the new Lee Child/Jack Reacher novel in hardback for a tenner in Asda proved too tempting.
I'm currently alternating Lee Child with TV coverage of The Masters, while gazing out at the distant lights of Port Glasgow. Augusta looks cold. Golf looks increasingly, pointlessly, like a computer game. Port Glasgow looks delightful at a distance. At night.