Leaving Linton

I made a collage of the four of us at the Kelso Showground yesterday waiting for the music to start. (Mr C’s ear appointment has been expedited to next Sunday, on account of him not being able to hear the nurse on the phone when he rang after the firecracker incident,which is great news).

The pix at the bottom are at the CL camp site and the one on the right is looking from the site to the farm I lived on from birth till I went to Uni.

When I took the money up to the 95 year old farmer (whose name was known to me but I’d not met him) to pay this morning I said I expected he’d remember my Dad and named him. He told me a few tales from the past then said “and you’ll be Barbara”. And he’d been complaining about his memory! Last year he’d been in hospital as he had Covid, pneumonia and a clot on his lung. What a survivor. He was waiting for his niece to bring his Sunday paper and said I should stay as I knew her from school. I made hurried excuses about having to get on the road. He also said my oldest friend Jenny’s dad, the minister, was a very nice man but his sermons weren’t up to much!

Katy and Colin are now parked beside a beach in Galloway. It’s too hot to read in the garden today. Mr C brought in the first bunch of sweet peas. The whole room has the lovely delicate scent.