Walking in the Borders

The day after we drove back from Wales, we led the walk that we did the recce for a week or two ago. 

I should rephrase this, really. Mr L drove back. Mr L led the walk (no one would want to depend on me for a sense of direction). And Mr L had done the recce; I had just wandered along with him examining the wild flowers and admiring the view. 

We've often noticed the phenomenon that a walk can seem quite long and tiring when it's just the two of us, but with the group of friends, catching up with the gossip, the miles just melt away. It also helped that on the proper walk we cut out a detour that we'd done on the recce, up a very steep path to a loch and back again. The group walk was six and a quarter miles, so the recce must have been nearer eight, which is another reason why it might have seemed more tiring...

There was a lot of upping, and the main downing was through this very steep field. As you can see, it was steep in two directions - down and sideways - which added to the pressure on the elderly knees. However, this was fairly near the end.

This week's decluttering haul: two (more) books; three wine glasses that don't match the ones we use; a big mixing bowl and flan dish, neither of which I really use (mainly because they were at the back of the cupboard and others were more easily reachable); a cheese grater (I have another); a Wedgwood ash tray (we've never smoked, and our smoking friends gave up years ago); a plastic cup; a set of mirrors for putting things on that I think we used once, at an offspring's wedding 20 years ago; a purse that's too bulky for my handbag and was barely used; and my mother-in-law's crystal dessert bowls. She died in 1992, and I kept them, thinking at that stage that one of our children might like them. But our children don't really have the sort of dinner parties where crystal bowls would feature. And I don't think I've ever used them. So I'm being hard-hearted. Someone will love them.

 

Wales. Railways.

We've been away to Wales, for the specific purpose of riding on heritage railways, which is Mr L's idea of a good time. He spends a lot of holidays walking round gardens with me, so it seemed only fair for him to get his fix of trains. We stayed in an immaculate bungalow in Tywyn, pronounced approximately tow-inn, which is very near the Talyllyn Railway. If you know, you know. So that was very good. There are a lot of sheep in Wales, as in Scotland, so the bungalow had lots of cute little sheepie touches, as above. 

Anyway, these photos are all in the wrong order, probably, but you get the general idea. 

This is a railway museum. 

This is Mr L on a train. 

This is the Mawddach Estuary. This part of Wales is very scenic. 

Another train. 

View of Bala Lake from a train. 

This was the main reason for the visit at this specific time - it was the 75th anniversary yesterday of the restoration of the Talyllyn railway. Lots of bearded chaps took part in a ceremony to celebrate this. Many photos were taken. 

Yesterday also happened to be Mr L's 78th birthday. This is his haul of presents in the immaculate bungalow. A lot of it consisted of railway books. (Yes, we're supposed to be decluttering, but seemingly railway books are immune from this process. Mind you, other books will be too.)

And then today we drove home. It's quite a long way. But isn't Wales lovely? 

The old chap is also rather nice. 

This week's actual decluttering didn't happen on Monday, because we were away, but there's some stuff on the spare room bed waiting to go, and also Mr L had sent away some old cameras to a company that buys such things. They only gave him £30 for them, but on the other hand they're no longer in our house. 

The trouble with the immaculate bungalow is that I came home and immediately wanted to redecorate the whole house and buy new furniture. But the feeling has now worn off. 

Decluttering again

This week's decluttering: about 400 books, which I hope a charity is going to come and collect today. They're mainly big hardbacks - I read lots of biographies, printed diaries and letters and other non-fiction books. Don't get me wrong - we still have another 400ish, which I will reread if I live long enough. 

Also some items from the cutlery drawer. Why did we need 4 bottle openers (I've kept one)? And two nutcrackers? - I think we cracked nuts the last time when the children were small, at Hallowe'en. These are the family heirloom ones, argh, but we support a charity that collects metal to recycle, so... off they go. Also two melon ballers? Have I ever balled melon? 

This is the truncheon owned by William Menzies (pronounced, in Scotland, Ming-ess), who was married to Mr L's great-aunt Agnes. He was a village postmaster and presumably had it to discourage marauders in the tiny, beautiful, peaceful village by Loch Tay. Son and family were here for the weekend and Son has taken it away, not - I assume - to chase difficult patients from his surgery.

Yesterday we did a recce for a walk we're leading a week on Saturday. It was in the Borders, otherwise known as the Southern Uplands, and there's a reason for that. 

It was about 6 and a half miles, lots of it - most of it - going up hill and down again. 

It was beautiful and we had perfect spring weather. 

But it was quite tiring. 
 

Blossom!

Life is too busy - lots of things to do in relation to the choir of which I'm chair, in preparation for a concert and, four weeks later, a Come & Sing (with catering). Also my other choir is having a concert in between these two events. Some tricky music! But lovely. Well, one piece is Britten's St Nicolas, which is less to my taste, though it has jolly bits. But otherwise Mozart, more Mozart and Purcell. 

The weather has often been beautiful, and I have much to do in the garden and not enough time. But look at my little cercis tree! It's almost too pink!

We had a day off from tasks on Saturday and went down with Daughter 1 to Selkirk in the Borders to see an exhibition by the (a?) Borders quilting group. It was great. Some of the quilts were quite modern, so more Britten than Mozart, but all were very impressive. 

I like this leaf. 

I like the colours of this one, though it's a bit exhausting to look at. Excuse my shadow.

One day I'd like to make some little houses, though with less orange. 

This was extremely impressive!

We had a little walk to see the nursing home where Mr L was born. It's now a clinic for young people with mental health problems. 

It has a lovely garden, though I doubt if these cherry trees were in it in May 1948, when he first came down those steps to start his life. 

 

Fresh air and exercise

I've decided to stop calling our decluttering "death cleaning" - a bit depressing. It's now Minimalising Monday; though if Mondays are too busy it can actually happen on another day. This Monday we took my mother's crystal bowl to a charity shop. It's been in our house since my lovely mum died in 2012, and I've never used it. I have several crystal bowls that I do use, and this one, because it's shallow, takes up a lot of space. 

And we took Mr L's old bike to a bike place where they refurbish them for good causes - youth groups and so on. 

We've also arranged for a charity to come and collect the books we're getting rid of. They're coming on May 5, so we need to tackle the books in the other rooms before then. I love a deadline. And Mr L is decluttering his old cameras. 

On Saturday we went on a lovely walk with the gang round Gosford House in East Lothian. 

The weather was perfect. 

This was our lunch spot. 

Reflections. 

Six miles, including walking along to the golf clubhouse for coffee overlooking the sea. 

And then home on the bus.

My little cercis chinensis is looking good, with its tulip entourage. 

Yesterday I was up town and admired the view from the bus stop.

And look at these frilly tulips in the garden! So pink. Lovely spring. 

 

The Death Clean continues.

It's the school holidays, and Son-in-Law1, the Edinburgh grandchildren and I went up Calton Hill, something I haven't done for years. Though it's in the middle of the city, it used to be very quiet, but it's now a tourist destination - coaches parked at the bottom - and there were lots of people wandering around. The weather was beautiful, which no doubt encouraged lingering.  

This is Edinburgh's Disgrace. The plan was to build a replica of the Parthenon, with stones exactly the same size as in Greece, in honour of the Scottish dead in the Napoleonic Wars. The money was to be raised by public subscription, but only half of the £42,000 was produced so this is all that got built. It's still quite striking. 

It looks as if this leads straight on to Arthur's Seat in the distance, but there's actually quite a chunk of town in between. 

You get a good view of the Castle and the east end of the main part of town. 

Littlest Granddaughter and Daughter 2 have been staying, and this sort of thing has been happening. 

Littlest has more or less taught herself to knit and made this, with some other creations. 

But they've gone now. It was a beautiful day again today - looking this way. 

Looking the other way, though - the Great Book Purge has begun. So far, we've succeeded mainly in making a Great Mess, but we have hopes to continue the death cleaning in this area. There aren't that many books that I actually want to part with, but facts must be faced, one of which is that we probably won't live long enough (ie to our 150th birthdays) to reread them all (as well as using up all my fabric stash; but that's another story).