Sunday 18 June 2023
We went out to a restaurant for dinner last night, the first time in the seven months we have lived in Scottish Borders. The sun was shining when we set off and still hadn’t set by the time we got home. I had booked the table at The Gordon Arms in Yarrow Valley as it was Chris’s birthday yesterday. We had been talking about eating there for at least six months. So glad we did. We’ve already booked another night there in August. Not only was it lovely going out to a restaurant-pub-hotel in the middle of countryside on a summer’s evening, we both really enjoyed the drive, especially with the low sun on the way back.
In London before Covid, we ate out fairly often. Well, what is fairly often? More often lunch on a day out in central London or wherever we’d go, but sometimes Saturday and Sunday. Occasionally, maybe once or twice a month, dinner out. But both of us used to travel a lot for work and while staying in hotels we’d eat out every day. Not eating out so much these days, I really appreciated going out for dinner, the sense of occasion. We both changed into slightly smarter clothes, though certainly not smart-smart, and we both appreciated a very good meal out. It’s a shame one of us will always have to drive when we go out from the house here but even that is fine.
The restaurant is owned by a couple, one the chef and one front of house. They both took time to speak to us and the other customers. I have eaten out a few times, particularly since Covid, and felt that the love and personal side of a good restaurant has been missing. I have also had food of the quality and presentation that the price has not reflected, ie overpriced and disappointing. The whole experience last night was exactly how I would hope a restaurant would be. We had three courses for £36 each (not including drinks). On the back of the menu were listed the suppliers and their miles from the restaurant. The quality of the ingredients was amazing and the food was unpretentious but more special than something you’d make at home. It’s worth travelling to Yarrow Valley in Scottish Borders to eat there!
I felt slightly sad after the meal though. It was such a beautiful, quiet evening. I wanted to walk around a bit but, despite my semi-bare feet being sprayed with Jungle Formula, it was apparent midges and biters were around. I realised that, short of being doused in Deet, sitting around a huge burning fire, citronella incense, being surrounded by midge netting and constantly flailing arms, it is not possible to sit outdoors and enjoy how beautiful it is in summer because of the midges. Ditto the mornings and near water and in shade. Your only hope is sitting in hot sun. They are a menace. We have been told that they are at their most prolific in June and September. It’s such a shame though. I would have been sitting outdoors most mornings had it not been for midges.
As for the water tank, we have about a third of a tank, we still don’t know how it filled up (something to do with the neighbour) and there are still drips coming in from the spring, which we are fairly certain means the pipes are not airlocked but the spring is almost dry. We had about five minutes of light rain yesterday, enough to damp a few leaves. Rain is forecast for this evening (from 20:00 ish. From 20:30 we will be at a gig in a marquee, The Fun Lovin’ Crime Writers at Borders Book Festival), but it seems impossible that it will rain and produce enough water to send a flow into our water tank.
The kitchen fan mouse is leaving its solitary poo calling-card every few days and we think we have house martins nesting in the roof above our bedroom as we can hear cheeps and scuffles.
Yesterday, both Chris and I had clearly been thinking the same thing, which, unexpectedly, is that we kind of prefer elements of winter out here to summer. Although not as green as it should be with such an early drought, it does look beautifully green. However, the hills look more dramatic in winter with the bronze, died-back bracken and purply-black died-back heather. However, the purple of heather is yet to emerge and we saw the dramatic end to the heather flowering last September and it was beautiful. I remember asking a few people which was their favourite season here when we first moved in November (seven months ago today). I probably expected a chorus of “summer” or maybe “spring”, but no one committed to a season. Someone said they liked all seasons, which I thought was a cop-out, but now I’m starting to get that. Someone else said November/December and May, which I also get. It would appear there is no month and no season where everything is perfect, which in a way adds to the charm of this area and makes it far easier to appreciate the elements of a day you most like. For me, when I picture this area without looking out the window, I think of the blue sky, sunshine and frost on the hills. I stopped the car once to take a photo of a day like that and it was in December. There were also some beautiful blue-sky days in March. Then the swallows started arriving in force in April, in May we had lots of sunshine before the midges arrived, in June the light is beautiful and we’ve hardly had any grey days … the more I think about it, the more unexpected positives I see in each month here, and I know that every year will be different.
