Album shed in Sam Burns' yard

It's been another great day in sunny Scotland. We thought that we better make the most of it before the weather turns to rain tomorrow.

After my morning walk in Holyrood Park, Mr hazelh and I drove across town in Paddy's car to Homebase. There we bought some bits and pieces to help with our garden makeover project: three enormous plant pots, a plastic trug, some heavy duty waste bags, a kneeling stool, and some potting compost.

After lunch, our next activity was a 20 mile return bike ride to Sam Burns' yard just beyond Musselburgh. We rooted around for a short while, then I bought four dark green saucers and a tiny jug. The saucers are to place under plant pots in our sitting room, and the jug will fit in well with the other ornaments on display in my tangoed green bathroom.

We called in at a shed shop of the way home. The staff there told me that they have a have a huge backlog of orders. Their list is so long that had I put in an order there and then, I wouldn't see the shed until November! We also had funny conversation about access to our garden. 'What's the access like?' they asked me. 'Terrible', I replied, 'but we do have a wide hall...'

As soon as we returned from the bike ride, I popped into the back garden to 'play' with some of my new acquisitions, principally the stool and the trug.

Then we headed up the road to Paddy and Caitlin's flat for family Skype, a wonderful meal, and a four-way game of Carcassone. The latter was very confusing after weeks of 'training' with just two players. However, by some miracle, and entirely by accident, I won.

My blip is of one of the sheds at the yard. The quotation is from John Muir's journal 'Mountain thoughts'. The words written in the 1870s, but not published until collected by Linnie Marsh in John of the Mountains in 1938. I love this sentiment. It reads in full:

'The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us, thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing. The trees wave and the flowers bloom in our bodies as well as our souls, and every bird song, wind song, and; tremendous storm song of the rocks in the heart of the mountains is our song, our very own, and sings our love.'

John Muir spent his early boyhood in East Lothian. His family emigrated to the US when he was 11.

Exercise today: walking 25,041 steps; 20 mile bike ride.

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