Diary: September 23

Continued 2/2.

9th

Today we visited the Ettrick and Yarrow Pastoral Society Annual Show.

They ALL ignored me as though I did not exist, whilst some despise me existing.

Horses were also present at this show.

The trophies.

There was also a classic tractor show.

These were top sheep, but there were no rare breed entries.

A sheep had got hold of it's rosette, Charlie removed it after I took this picture.

Hawick Scout band came and played their awesome music.

We enjoyed the variety of the Ettrick and Yarrow Pastoral Society Annual Show but preferred the smaller Roberton Show for the locality and familiarity.

We stopped at Selkirk and enjoyed a pint in a local bar.

And then visited Walter Scott's courthouse.

8th

These misty mornings, that turn into hot days, are so atmospheric and photogenic.

Been full on with the farmhouse garden and paddock today. I've also weeded the kitchen garden to find onions, turnips, parsnips and carrots growing. It appears the cover of the weeds has protected these edible vegetables from the birds.

Could this have something to do with sensory overload, as I recall walking down a supermarket aisle, not being able to find peas for carrot for being overloaded with a blend of colour and the impossiblity of sharp serrated writing. Maybe it's just the stinging thorns.

Water in the trough was low, the flock definitely drinks more and suffers from the heat, more so the tup sheep, they are the first to lay down and pant. Whilst topping I found a tup, facing and resting exactly where the other tup had been the other day, I managed to creep up on him also, weird.

In the evening Charlie returned with a big box of shopping; he pulled out a bottle of honey liqueur, my other friend in Stroud enjoys this drink, but Bourbon is more to my taste, Southern Comfort, yes. We also have Fireball, for the cold, windy and wet days.

4th

An overcast daybreak broke into a near cloudless sunny morning, I burned the sizzling bacon whilst distracted, fiddling around with Apple Music; suspecting the A.I. selection is out to depress me, as songs switch from happy, that I've chosen to utterly miserable they choose for me, ever so frequently.

From my writing many would believe me to be a manic depressant, but I'll tell you, I never, if extremely rarely feel depressed, I'm continually enriched with happiness.