Today I am aching all over. I have such sore muscles and bones and have developed a creaky way of walking. I also have a weariness that keeps propelling me towards the sofa, but there are always those annoying little things that pull me away.

I have finally planted out the baby seedlings… enough was enough. All this molly coddling had to stop. I had had enough of their little ventures out to the air then at the first drop of rain, back to the camphorwood chest to snuggle in the warmth. Yesterday I set forth with my teaspoon and shovelled them in wherever there was a space… by the time I had finished I had no idea which was which… tobacco plants – white or mixed, night scented stocks, lupins, Canterbury bells, some creeping purple thing… I lost the labels ages ago, so goodness knows what will come up, if any do survive. They look quite little and pathetic.

And I see some summer bulbs that I bought in the supermarket in February are nosing their way up too – more surprises for what they might be. I am just dazed with excitement.

Last week was a huge leap from the couch – in springy Lycra to boot! I suffered the evil changing room mirrors in order to try on some trendy stretchy gear, and then armed with my new lilac mat, I joined a yoga class where the teacher was the most bendy person I have ever seen. It was all good, and I even participated in a shoulder stand, quite happily. I have such memories of being in The Flying Veltemas as a girl where I used to swing on the climbing frame and then run over to the tree for the grande finale. We had to leap on a long rope hanging from a branch, and in some elegant position throw ourselves out towards the jungle. Together with the 2 other Veltemas, we thought we were the most magnificent act in the world (well, in Penang).

Friday saw me in the Lycra again, but this time with the pink ballet shoes. I returned to the class I joined last year, and felt like a total sieve. I forgot NOT to stand at the end of a row, because he makes your pirouette round, away from his view, and then you are facing away from everyone, and can’t see what to do by following their legs, and instead, they are looking at YOU. I was mortified. Still I persevered, with my plies and tendus and fondus and what not. The next day I thought I had been jumped on from a great height, on to my stomach. My poor core muscles were in deep shock.

And finally Saturday. Off to the great outdoors, in walking boots and hiking trousers, and the jolly company of the St John’s walking group. We drove out to Fife and walked up Bishops Law and on to West Lomond and back around the reservoir. I say all this but mostly I just stared at my boots and plodded on. Nice people, nice chats and when I did look up, stunning scenery.

We walked round Loch Levin (along the ridge of the hills) and saw the castle in which Mary Queen of Scots was imprisoned. It was in this castle that she was made to abdicate her throne in favour of her infant son, James VI. She escaped in May of 1568 aided and abetted by Wee Willie Douglas. It is said that whilst at dinner, she threw her napkin over the keys, and the Wee Willie picked up her napkin, cunningly hiding the keys, and she was spirited out by her followers, some say in a laundry basket, but there is controversy about that. Meanwhile in the West Lomond hills (where we were) her rescuers were waiting and took her off by horseback to Niddrie Castle just outside Edinburgh. Anyway before the month was out, she was recaptured and frogmarched off to England where she remained a prisoner for about 16 years. She never saw the Bonny Land again.

I ate my roasted mushroom sandwich on a mossy bank and contemplated many things.

When I got home I promptly died on the sofa, but one good thing that came out of the day was I met a man whose son designs websites, so I am meeting him tomorrow and he is going to do one for me. It will be good and might give me some publicity when my books do come out. The Highland Games will be published and available in August on amazon and ebooks and other sites. But a website wouldn’t hurt!

No other news this week, apart from an incident that did make John and me laugh (quietly). A blind woman let her Labrador off his harness to have a frolic and use ‘the facilities’ in the gardens around St Mary’s cathedral. We were walking towards her, and saw the bad dog about to have ‘relations’ with another dog also enjoying the spring air. Oh my! We should have told the lady, who was standing there oblivious, but we didn’t. Oh well.

And now I woke up to hear the death of a Bee Gee…last month it was a Monkee. So sad. I loved the Bee Gees, and have such memories of Robin Gibb singing Massachusetts on Top of the Pops. In more recent years I seem to remember a snowy night dancing in Dilly’s kitchen. Memories, sweet memories!