Today’s picture was sent to me by my sister Mary. It has been very hot indeed in London and it looks as though the majority of the population of that great city were out dangling their toes in the water at Parliament Hill Fields on Sunday.
I didn’t have time to dangle anything this morning as Dropscone appeared on schedule for a morning pedal. As there are currently a set of temporary traffic lights on the Town Bridge, we decided to go off in the opposite direction and enjoyed an uninterrupted visit to Waterbeck.
There was a light breeze in our face on the way out and, luckily for us, it didn’t get any stronger until we turned for home when it picked up quite a bit and was most helpful. Our general pace was modest although we enjoyed a burst of speed over the last five and a half miles home which were downhill and with the wind behind us. We hit 35 mph coming down Callister which is quite fast enough for two old men.
Over coffee and scones, I learnt about Dropscone’s latest golfing victory. He is in a rich vein of form at the moment. He also told me that he had been out twice on the bike over the weekend so he has had a busy time.
After he left, I got myself cleaned and smartened up and went up to the High Street to meet a most important visitor who was coming from Edinburgh by bus.
This was Meg, the mother of Julie Goyder whose blog I have followed with laughter, sorrow, sympathy, pride and many emotions in between over the past few years. Meg had come all the way from Australia just to visit Wauchope Cottage and we were honoured. She was also fitting in an attendance at her granddaughter’s wedding in Peebles so that was convenient for her.
We got her safely installed in the B&B rooms and then Sandy arrived. He too had a cup of coffee and he and I walked round the garden. There was plenty to look at.
The Danish Flag poppies may go over quickly but more arrive with commendable speed.
Meg had brought us a gift from Julie in Australia. It is a bottle stopper and came in a bag that told us all we needed to know about it.
Meg is making light of a fractured pelvis and several fractures in her left arm which she sustained in a fall from her bike. When she had got settled, she went off on foot to visit the High Street and get a bit of lunch.
While she was out, I spent a little time bird watching. There were several close encounters of the bird kind.
A greenfinch gave things a sideways look.
And a family of sparrows tucked in at the fat ball cafeteria.
Mrs Tootlepedal went off to work and when Meg returned, she went for a short rest while I mowed the front lawn. Then I took Meg for a motor tour of the area. We went across the hill to Newcastleton, passing Sandy who was hen harrier watching by the roadside, and returned by way of a fleeting visit to Hermitage castle…
…and back down the A7. I was too busy acting as a tour guide to take any pictures of the trip but the countryside was looking at its best and Meg got a really good short tour of the western border country of Scotland.
Once back home, she took a walk round the garden and then retired to write up her diary while I finished the task of turning the compost from bin B to bin A and trimmed a short section of hedge. I had another camera tour of the garden. In places, there are literally masses of flowers.
And another new iris has appeared.
I did some shopping and then Mrs Tootlepedal returned from work and prepared a splendid roast chicken evening meal for which Meg joined us. The chicken was garnished with potatoes, turnip and broad beans from the garden, as we are just reaching the home grown vegetable part of the year. We polished the meal off with strawberries, ice cream and cream and I fear that all this may have put the Tootlepedal diet plan somewhat into reverse. It was worth it.
It has been a really good day as it was very nice to meet a real life person from the world of the blogs that I read and to have some flesh put upon Julie’s digital bones. I expect her ears were burning even so many thousands of miles away.
After our meal, Mrs Tootlepedal took Meg on a tour of the garden and I snatched a picture of them in a rare moment of repose.
I thought that the evening light would show Crown Princess Margareta up well but the insects had beaten me to it.
The flying bird of the day was one of the sparrow clan.