November 23

Woodburn, 4:23pm 4th November 23.

Diary: November 23

This chilly month of November I have been living in the Scottish Borders one year, gathering retrospective this invaluable time has dawned an awareness as to how dead my mind had become whilst displaced and dejected into a transient lifestyle. I solemly hate incurrence of this infliction of haplessness, unlike them, I deny that hatred rule over me, or others.

4th

Strange fungus growing on the farmhouse paddock, I am not aware of the name, but the sheep on the paddock sure seem to keep their distance from it.

In observation I pondered over why dock leaves are attracted to gather and grow around [not in] manure, perhaps I'll research the internet for an answer to this oddity.

The sunset glow was warming through a dark chill of dusk. I shared the picture above with our friendly neighbours from the farmhouse cottages pictured.

We've had the farmhouse encircled by lights which have developed during these darkening evenings; but somehow occasionally seem to loose sense of their presence.

5th

Charlie finished building the paddock perimeter fence, in worry of the Herdwick ewe and lamb jumping the stone wall. We divided half of the herd from the polytunnel to the paddock, I enjoyed watching them take to the green pasture; those remaining in the polytunnel (mostly castrated lambs) will be sold at the cattle market as store lambs.

I am aghast at how little Scottish farmers fertilise their pastures, which English farmers have done within the Scottish Borders.

Decorating the farmhouse reception room has progressed significantly, in the evening I painted the borders and rolled emulsion onto the celling. There are still fragments of wallpaper everywhere; stuck to the sofa, in-between the cushions, on skirting boards etc, I'm finding this formality quite annoying.

Arriving into Hawick I got Charlie to pull over the 4x4 to allow me to take a few pictures of the autumnal bronzes displayed on the trees near Wilton Lodge Park. The wee lane is busy most mornings with walkers, dog walkers and joggers, noticablly happy pensioners seemingly paired together, perhaps in correspondence sake of sustaining memory.

Attempting to reverse an upturned smile knowing that this invaluable expression has to develop naturally.

In the evening we had planned to have a bonfire, burning I Guy Fawkes on the paddock, but were too tired from performing chores of the day; Morrisons supermarket had also sold out of sparklers, and we thought better, in mind of livestock, than to let off fireworks within the Borthwick Valley.

Herdwick ewe and lamb (came from the same herd but are not related); enjoying awesome panoramic views of the paddock; I knew she'd enjoy this.

I am enjoying using a language app named Duolingo immensely, this evening I failed, by a mere hundred "XP" to get promoted into the next league after coming first in the previous league. I am learning French, and plan also to learn German and a Scandinavian language also.

6th

The council pop in Hawick.

Seems not to be very clean.

7th

As we pulled into Longtown cattle market, there was a long dual queue to offload our sheep. By the side of our 4x4 was a young farmer eager to unload, Charlie lacked patience with him suspecting he was going to pull in front of us which proved unfounded.

I told Charlie to have more patience with the younger generation; however the young farmer made an offhand remark as Charlie carefully pulled away from the loading bay where the young farmer had aligned his trailer very close to our 4x4, how testosterone burns civility.

After enjoying a large breakfast at the cattle market cafe, we walked around the pens, where I discovered a flock of Herdwick sheep. Since we purchased a Herwick ewe Charile is no longer reffering the breed as awful things, maybe they'll be some Herdwick's returning to the farmhouse with us in the future? As we left the pens a stranger "apologised" to me, whatever for I do not know, but his projected was creepy, not unlike many other projections that had made unfounded "apologies" to me. Unnerved, I followed Charlie into the auctioning hall and watched a young Herdwick tup sell for a mere £50.

Returning to Hawick, we turned diverted onto a right turn after Langholm, following a small lane towards Langholm moor; I adore the stalk scenic views of this wild and free area, a place to breathe, restful.

We seen some goats and wondered about a goat with poorly kids we'd seen here months before.

Passing over a black and white painted bridge we turned left and parked beside Tarras Water.

Overlooking Newcastleton we stopped to observe another panoramic view.

Only a brisk walk back to the heated seats of the 4x4, where Charlie's smile is waiting; realising I'm now visiting this weathered wilderness, rather than tethered to extremities from within it.

9th

We have nearly finished decorating the reception room of the farmhouse; furniture has been returned to the room, now there is just final touches to be made to the paint work. We sought through some books, which to keep, what to sell; I suggested getting rid of the Christian books, they mean nothing to me, devalued by wreckless wagers unto unfathomable loss.

10th

Tonight we played games with the good folk of Roberton, which included dominos, cards, a treasure hunt and carpet bowls. Both myself and Charlie enjoyed this civil and sociable evening; it was heartening to see Charlie thaw to warming conversation.

11th

Midday we drove to the Eskdalemuir forest, from the north turning west before the village we followed the Roman and Reivers footpath towards Loch fell.

Alemoor Loch, displeased with a large amount of firework litter I discovered here.

Driving through Eskdalemuir forest.

We refuelled in Lockerbie, purchased sandwiches and Langholm, then arrived back at the farmhouse sleepy tired, and slept early for a duration of twelve hours!

12th

Today I have quit smoking; tired with coughing my lungs up. Early morning the temperature dropped to -7c; everywhere is coated in whiteness, my favourite time of the year in bonnie Scotland. Symptoms of sickness linked to a parasite infestation I suffered a month ago has returned, forcing another visit to the doctors, fearing these parasites may have evolved to be anti-biotic resistant.

Tonight we watched a folk duo named Winter Wilson; perform songs written about their life, themed on with and without disparity, displacement, were interesting, but I could not believe they had not of written about anybody, somebody they'd met along their long winding road. As we enjoyed a bottle of white wine, our glasses incurred comment, against a plastic glass winter held in her hand. I had a feeling the downtrodden duo didn't like us, attendance was thin, not surpising, rabid cultural Marxists they are.