Today’s unusual guest picture comes from our friend Gavin. His son Fraser was putting a new irrigation system in his garden when he discovered a plastic bag and on opening it, he found two hand grenades complete with pins in them. They were relics of the Korean War. He was pleased that his children hadn’t found them first. You might wonder about the thought processes of someone who buries hand grenades in a garden.
Strangely enough, we had a very similar day today to our previous forty five days. Those readers wanting exciting developments, foreign travel and adventurous encounters will once again be disappointed.
On the other hand, it wasn’t a bad day at all.
The sun shone and the garden looked cheerful with geums…
…and Welsh poppies brightening up my first excursion after breakfast.
The Welsh poppies are wearing a fringe of red this year.
The Icelandic poppies are going all out for orange.
Our resident blackbirds built a nest in the hedge beside the road and laid eggs in it and then abandoned it. We think that they may have started again but no young blackbirds have been seen yet. They were busy pecking the lawn today.
The tulips continue to delight…
…and more and more aquilegias are appearing every day now.
I went in to make coffee and we enjoyed our street coffee morning, with added shortbread, courtesy of Margaret, and the sun providing some real warmth as we sat and chatted.
After coffee, we returned to the garden to do some much needed watering. In spite of rain in many other places up and down the country, we still remain obstinately dry. Although we are promised some unseasonably chilly weather on Sunday, we are still not being offered any rain for the next ten days. This is not good.
I went in after a while and checked on the bird feeder through the window.
A greenfinch and goldfinch seemed to be questioning the quality of the sunflower seed…
…and a sparrow was curious to see what all the grumbling was about.
A bright eyed dunnock remained above it all.
When I went out again, I took a picture of this little flower, sprinkled with water from the hose, not the sky.
A look at the dicentra showed that it had big plans.
I sat on the bench with Mrs Tootlepedal and she expressed her pleasure at the way that the tulips were blending nicely with the rhododendron on the opposite side of the lawn.
After lunch, I had another go at making date rolls, using more of the dates which Marjorie had kindly given me a few days ago. I was better prepared for the task this time and managed to get a neater appearance in the finished product…
…though when it comes to cutting the rolls to equal sizes, my arithmetic is still not very good.
My internet friend Quercus suggests that I should describe such rough and ready finished products as ‘artisan’ or ‘rustic’ and pretend that their irregularity is a sign of culinary honesty rather than incompetence.
They taste good and that it what really matters.
Leaving the rolls to cool, I went off for a short cycle ride. Because I was going round my regular Canonbie circuit, I passed the signpost which appeared on my walking report yesterday.
Yesterday, it had taken me and hour and thirty six minutes to walk back to Langholm downhill and downwind. Today, it took me twenty eight minutes to pedal uphill and into the wind to the same spot. Bicycles are a sort of miracle really.
The track that I had followed yesterday looked inviting but the black clouds in the distance were a bit ominous so I pressed on towards Canonbie.
The clouds kept away and I was able to stop a couple of times to admire some trees, these at Chapelhill….
…and these at Grainstonehead.
Some planned planting along a drive nearby provided a good range of colour.
It is good to see trees dressed in their summer clothes.
I got back home in good time for my evening Zoom chat with my brother and sisters, and Mrs Tootlepedal joined in on this occasion.
Later in the evening, we watched the Queen addressing the nation on TV and that rounded off our day. Unfortunately, although we were both around on the original VE day, we are both too young to remember anything about it.
The flying bird of the day is a sparrow giving a goldfinch a hard stare.