Old Ormiston…

….not the East Lothian one, the real one.

Earlier, maw popped down the Tweed to advise on the removal of some post-flowered plants which benefit from removal. I tackled yet more bind weed, and then we headed-off for our packed lunch.

We stopped at the aforementioned Old Ormiston, by the banks of the River Teviot and enjoyed the sound of silence, only interrupted by some bird tweeting, cows mooing and me munching a roast chicken and coleslaw roll.

Then to Morebattle to see a man about god or a dog. Nancy keeps sending me pictures of kittens at Borders Pet Rescue, which is a worry.