Gail has pointed out an omission in my description last week of our Torridon cottage as "a little patch of heaven'.
What I should have said, of course, was that, in the months of July and August, on dull and damp days, it is "a little patch of heaven for the Highland midge".
The cottage is nestled below a boggy hillside, surrounded by birches and Scots pines, and sheltered from the prevailing westerly winds. Perfect conditions then, when the light is low and the atmosphere humid, for massed ranks of our local species of biting midge to come out and party in the garden.
And it seems they did not get this year's memo about social distancing. So when, on Sunday morning, Gail got all togged up for a spot of shed painting, I opted to stay indoors behind closed windows and catch up on some zzzzzzz.
Only later, when the weather had brightened up a bit and the midges had retreated to their boggy dwelling places to hide from the sun, did I emerge to supervise Gail's work in the garden.