Porch

We wake at lunchtime. The marathon has been and gone on the prom. I take the dogs bowl back to Emily’s and we take leave of the resurgent party-ers.

To Kirkurd for a sack of sugar and a pack of quinoa. The place looks great - although Nick tells me that the cockerel has gone missing. No feathers, no sign of strife.

We get to Earlston by six. Cauli cheese, roast potatoes, and rhubarb crumble. And the E crumble, into bed.