Bank Holiday Monday 1 May 2023
May. It’s May. How the [expletive] is it May already? It’s shortly before 08:00. Mitch is already outside and on the roof of the shed he’s constructing around the frame of what was once, apparently, a pig shed. Chris is in the shower, which will have been scalding. We decided it would be best if he had a shower first as there is no cold water running into the shower (suspected air lock). All subsequent showers get cooler – well, less scalding – and it would seem that the third shower of the morning is about right. It’s not bad though, that the only issue we have had for the first half of someone’s visit is an absence of cold water in the shower.
Yesterday, the first full day of Fiona and Andy’s stay, it rained on and off. We decided to go to Melrose for coffee, to wander around (I know, we’d vowed not to take any more guests to small towns) and to then head to the nearby Abbotsford, former home of Sir Walter Scott. None of us had read any Walter Scott, and neither did any of us seem to know much about him. He wrote Ivanhoe and Rob Roy and his novel Waverley is the only novel whose title named a train station (Edinburgh Waverley. Obvs.). It was actually a really interesting house and a lovely garden, despite a degree of disappointment about how little of the house was open to the public. None of us felt massively enthusiastic about reading a Sir Walter Scott book though. We had a good sandwich-y lunch in the café overlooking Abbotsford and the surrounding hills and countryside. Still raining on and off, we drove through Hawick to go along the remote and scenic road between Hawick and near-ish us. Still raining a bit, we drove to the end of the dead-end road at Ettrick and had a great walk through up-and-down low-level clouds, mist and drizzle to Over Phawhope Bothy. We encountered no one else, though Fiona and Andy had a bonding moment with some sheep.
On the way back home, we stopped at Ettrick Kirk, another place Chris and I think has some kind of calming effect. They all saw a hare bounding across the kirkyard and Fiona and I found the headstone of the people we now know were the first inhabitants of our house.
I have no idea what we’d have done if they had stayed with us in London on a grey, wet-ish day, but we’d have had no problem finding things to do. However, what we did around here on a wet-ish day also worked out really well. We did, however, think that had there been clouds of rain, wind and cold, that might have precluded leaving the house and I would have raided the semblance of a games cupboard we have.
In the evening, with a lot of help from Fiona, we sat down for an Indian feast. Lovely, leisurely, chatty evening with friends.
I can’t not mention that on the drive in the morning, we saw the Clydesdale mares with very, very young foals. They are all so incredibly friendly and all came over to see us. The stallion, probably their dad, was keeping an eye on things from his field across the road. He is also a very good poseur. Andy confirmed that the fences around the horses are indeed electrified.
