The photo above shows one of the compensations of having meetings in this part of the world - the sun setting in a sudden blaze of glory above Loch Fyne took us by surprise after a fairly grey day, making me regret that I didn't have the Leica with me. Not bad for a phone pic all the same. But it was after two days of meetings, of sitting round a table struggling to come to agreement over what should happen at an event, or shuffling through piles of papers and balance sheets while the seat grew harder and the room stuffier, that I realised what a great job teaching is. Actually it was when I saw on the news a feature about a firm of receivers, and saw them sitting shuffling papers and talking about balance sheets that it burst upon me that no matter how frustrating or exhausting life in the classroom was it was infinitely more suited to my temperament, and I knew that life in an office environment would have driven me mad.
And there was a pleasing moment before the meetings began, when the wife of one of my Twitter followers turned up at the Diocesan Centre in Oban announcing that she was here to pay for some olive oil. She didn't know who I was, and she didn't seem to know her man's online name, nor the fact that the oil was actually for a third party, also one of my Twitterites, also a complete stranger. And so I have introduced Zaytoun Palestinian olive oil to Oban, recouped some of my outlay, and been confirmed in the knowledge that I chose the right job after all. Can't all be bad, huh?