Today’s guest picture comes from my sister Susan who started a journey north by going to Kentish Town Station where she was quite surprised to find a garden on the platform.
We had a better day today with just a hint of warmth, although no one would have called a high summer day.
I had to spend two hours in the morning not taking advantage of the good weather while I sat in the Welcome to Langholm office in the Market Place from ten until twelve. I was able to take advantage of the peace and quiet though (just two visitors to welcome) by getting a couple of weeks of the newspaper index put into the Archive Group database so it wasn’t time wasted.
When I got home, I found that Mrs Tootlepedal was still helping out at the Buccleuch Centre but she was soon back home and out in the garden.
I went out too.
By the front lawn, two blackbirds sat upon a hedge. One stayed for a picture….
…and the other flew off, stood on one leg and gave me a hard stare.
The Rosa Wren nearby drew my attention away from the blackbird.
It is bursting with blossom.
I walked through the garden.
In the back border, I noticed a clematis covered up by other plants and Mrs Tootlepedal kindly stepped forward and drew aside the curtain.
Beside it, a pink geranium stood out.
Mrs Tootlepedal has some knapweed in one of the flower beds…
…and it is a plant which is popular with bees.
High above the knapweed, Bobbie James looks light and airy…
…while further along the fence, the Ginger Syllabub has entered a rather blowsy period…
..and like Blanche Dubois, it is perhaps past its best.
The fancy geums are also coming to an end but they have been very good value and lasted a long time so we say goodbye to them with gratitude.
After lunch, I was tempted by the Tour on the telly but managed to resist it long enough to get the fairly speedy bike out, pump up the tyres and head off down to Canonbie and back. A brisk wind kept me concentrating on just cycling for most of the trip but I did stop to admire the bus shelter at the Hollows…
…and some wild knapweed on the old A7.
It was growing among the meadowsweet in a really rich roadside verge.
I kept to a steady speed and had enough energy when I got home to saw a few logs, sieve a couple of buckets of compost, have a shower, see the finish of the Tour stage and be ready for my flute pupil Luke when he arrived for another go at our Haydn sonata. I had asked him to be sure to find a little time to practise through the week and it turned out that he had. Nothing could be more satisfactory.
After tea, for which Mrs Tootlepedal had prepared a roasted shoulder of lamb, I went off for more music with Mike and Isabel. This was to be our last evening of playing for a month so it was especially enjoyable.
The flying bird of the day is still sitting and still giving me a hard stare.