It was another relentlessly dull day today. It was raining when I got up and it is raining as I write this. It stopped from time to time during the day but not often and not for long. In spite of three days’ rain, the river hasn’t risen very much.
It all goes to show that I have been doing more complaining than it has been raining. There have been flood warnings all over Scotland but we have got off lightly. The light winds have also meant that the end wall has not leaked yet so all in all, it hasn’t been too bad.
Mrs Tootlepedal spends a little time tapping on the fireplace each day and is making good progress.
I follow my usual policy of trying not to get under her feet while she is working.
I did think of cycling in the afternoon when it stopped raining but by the time I was ready to get ready, it had started raining heavily so I took this as a sign to have a day of rest.
The garden has not offered any great photo opportunities lately and the lack of interest has been compounded by a disease which has laid low every impatiens or Busy Lizzie in the garden.
You can see some good ones here.
Dr Tinker tells us that this is a nationwide problem this year.
I spent the morning doing nothing very much in a masterful way and the afternoon was a bit the same though I did manage to walk up to the town to visit the Archive Centre and do a little work there.
In between times, I got the camera out. especially when I heard quacking round the back of the house.
She still has all her ducklings which is unusual. They often fall prey to predators.
The fat ball fortress may be saving me money but it makes photographing a difficult business. It is not easy to get the focus on the birds not the bars.
The garden is very depressed and only the cosmos seem to thrive.
The roses are hanging their heads.
Even the water lilies are hiding.
The lupins can stand it…
…but the only flowers looking really happy are those in the non hanging basket in the greenhouse.
The birds keep visiting, though some look perkier than others.
Following the intensive coverage of the English riots, I thought I ought to show the value of CCTV in Wauchope cottage.
First, the evidence of a crime: plum nibbling.
We continue to be visited by tits of all ages and many types.
We have two B &B guests tonight who are here for the exhibition of fox hounds in Langholm tomorrow. One of them turns out to be the husband of a friend of Mrs Tootlepedal’s from her time with the driving for the disabled. She has since moved to Devon and they find the weather there very agreeable. It would be too hot for me.
In the evening, we were visited by Dr and Mrs Tinker for the usual evening of tootling and conversation and in the case of the gentlemen, a bottle of red wine. It all went well.