Rural Decay

Rosebay Willowherb growing inside an abandoned cottage near Kirk Yetholm in the Scottish Borders. Until I looked it up just now, I thought this was one of those evil invasive species but it turns out to be native. It's just very good at colonising and has been spread by railways and roads. In fact, it was called "bombweed" during the WWII years because it sprang up on bombsites. Whatever, I love it and I judge the days of summer remaining by the tip of the stem - once the blooms are at the top, it's nearly autumn time.

We were in Kirk Yetholm (where the kirk (church) is) next to Town Yetholm (where the um... town is!) to service a holiday cottage. Dotty blackmailed me into hoovering, dusting and pillow-plumping whilst she reclined on the veranda with a large Cinzano. And all because of some trifling misunderstanding over ISO settings in the dark, after dozens of pints of strong ale, as the music swirled around us. Hmph.

Then it rained and rained and rained. Which spoiled our plans to visit the sandcastle competition in Dunbar, which I had rather incongruously read about in the Berwickshire News in the Cobble Inn in Kelso the night before. Just before The ISO Incident.

Anyway, it's still raining and there's a film to watch. This looks great! Sleep Furiously.