It has been another day of beautiful weather for which we are grateful. Mrs Tootlepedal has even had to start watering the garden in parts. Dropscone was taking his youngest boy back to college in Edinburgh so I went round the morning run myself in an average time. It served to loosen up the legs after the big run on Wednesday. In the afternoon I did my weekly stint in the tourist information point and was rewarded by a steady flow if tourists needing information but not so many that I couldn’t complete the Guardian crossword and the Herald sudoku.
Not long after I got back home, our visitors for the night appeared. They were two more end to enders and had come from Tebay. They were in very good condition and had obviously not been overstretching themselves. They are pictured here lurking behind a bed of cosmos drinking tea and a curious pink concoction which is obviously doing them good. Unlike many of our cycling visitors, they are not “doing it for charity” and I think this is really sensible as judging from our experience of some of our other end to enders, very often “doing it for charity” puts a huge strain on the cyclists.
During the early evening, I sieved a little of this year’s early compost and it looks pretty good. I think the compost plans are going well. Mrs Tootlepedal is using last year’s kitchen compost for digging in and she will use this compost for mulching. Just wait until the worms get going. We will be in compost heaven.
In the evening we went to the Buccleuch Centre for the second night running. This time it was a piano trio and a singer playing and singing the music of Doris Day. It doesn’t sound like much a night out but it turned out to be most enjoyable. The musicians were more than competent and the singer put the numbers over with verve and charm. Mrs Tootlepedal and I were probably the youngest in the audience and the house was a bit thin so there wasn’t quite the atmosphere that the performers deserved for their efforts but once again it shows how lucky we are to have the Buccleuch Centre at the end of our street. As a bonus, Walter, the resident sound man, had got the sound levels perfect for an old grump like me.