Today’s guest picture shows a fine mountain view taken by my brother Andrew in NZ when he was tramping to Silica Rapids at Whakapapa at the beginning of this month. I may have remarked before that he is an exceptionally active chap. The building in the foreground is a hotel.
I was by no means an active chap myself today and the most energetic thing that I did in the morning was to make a pot of coffee for a gathering of Dropscone, Arthur and Sandy who sat round our kitchen table and enjoyed one of Dropscone’s girdle scones and a slice of Selkirk bannock while sipping.
It was a fairly dismal morning, grey and drizzly as this picture of a perching chaffinch demonstrates…
I am still rather upset by the failure of the independence referendum and when the conversation turned to renewable energy this morning, I found myself arguing both that when it come to renewable energy, the politicians have been made complete fools of by the big energy companies and also that people who feel that all politicians are fools are fools themselves because they are playing the game of the big energy companies who want discredited politicians to be thought of as fools so that they, the companies, can get away with doing whatever they want without regulation or responsibility. I shall have to calm down.
After the coffee party split up, I went out and turned some compost.
It wasn’t a good day for carrying the camera so I was pleased to be able to catch a dunnock in a quiet moment.
Health and safety warning: Those of a nervous disposition should stop reading now as the next section deals with compost and may be too exciting for them.
I finished turning the compost today and here is a picture of bin C and bin D with the freshly turned compost.
The sharp eyed will notice that bin D on the right is smaller than bin C on the left. By the time that Mrs Tootlepedal has used the compost from bin D, the compost in bin C will have handily reduced itself in size and will fit comfortably into bin D.
Here are bins A and B. By the end of the day the last of bin B had gone into bin A and it will stay there until next spring when it will be transported into bin C. Bin A has removable sections to make getting the compost out an easy task. The half glimpsed plastic bin on the left has been filled by Mrs Tootlepedal has got shreddings in it and will rot down at its own pace unless I feel very perky.
You can see that when it comes to elegant compost bins, no expense has been spared.
After lunch, the drizzle faded away and as it was pleasantly warm in the west wind, Sandy and I went off for a leisurely short pedal just to get the legs turning over. Sandy has really taken to cycling and did a 34 mile circuit on Sunday which surprised even him.
It was still very grey and by the time we had got back and had a cup of tea and a biscuit, it really felt as though evening had come, although it was only four o’clock.
I took Pocketcam out when I had finished the composting just to see how it would cope with the poor light.
Poking through the fence was a ginger syllabub rose which has been encouraged by the recent good weather to have a go at flowering for the first time this year.
The Shirley poppies are slowly going over but but the Michaelmas daisies and the astrantia are holding on bravely.
A couple of readers have commented on the marigolds so I asked Mrs Tootlepedal what their Sunday name is and she tells me that they are Calendula officinalis. Wikipedia tells me that they have a variety of common names: pot marigold, ruddles, common marigold, garden marigold, English marigold, or Scottish marigold. In our garden they are Scottish marigolds.
In the evening, Sandy and I went off to the Archive Centre where we put 100 entries into the newspaper database. We enjoyed a well earned glass of wine after that but the sad fact is that I am falling ever further behind the eager data miners who are about three months ahead of me. I will have to pull my socks up and make a determined effort to catch up soon or I will be overwhelmed. Too much good weather and too many cycling miles over the summer have been my downfall.
The flying bird of the day is an inevitable and rather fuzzy chaffinch.