Today’s guest picture comes from our friend Bruce. He has noticed a subtle change in our post vans over the last month.
After an early (by our standards) breakfast, we waved goodbye to our daughter and granddaughter, caught the tube from Stockwell to Euston, found our comfortable seats on the train to Carlisle, and proceeded northwards on time and at a reasonable speed. It was raining heavily as we sped through the English countryside but it stopped before we came to Carlisle. The bus from Carlisle to Langholm was on time, and there was enough time before it left to allow us to have coffee and a snack before catching it. If only all life could run as smoothly as this day did, the world would be a better place.
We caught the bus beside the Citadel in the centre of Carlisle . . .
. . . and it ran under a rainbow as it went up the road . . .
. . . to Langholm, and when we got there, we found that Langholm hadn’t changed noticeably while we had been away.
There was just enough light left for a quick look round the garden before we settled down inside.
There were quite a few nasturtiums left . . .
. . . a single flower on the Special Grandma Rose
. . . a couple of fuchsia flowers were still hanging about . . .
. . . and the patio rose doesn’t know that it’s November at all.
Although we had a wonderful time in the south, visiting theatres and relatives, enjoying the company of our daughter and granddaughter, and seeing the sights of the city, there is no doubt that coming home is a great part of the pleasure of going away.
No time for a flying bird today, but instead I will put the last of our apples. I had left them on the tree for the birds to enjoy while we were away. As they hadn’t pecked them, I picked them.