The Haining.

I don’t know why, but there are an awful lot of meetings for me to attend on Wednesdays when I should be out enjoying a day’s cycling. I met up with the club at the Musselburgh start with the intention of accompanying them to lunch and then beetling back home for an early bath. I had a slow puncture when I left home having thought, the previous evening, that I had fixed it. This particular slow puncture suddenly became a very fast one before we were outside the Honest Toun’s boundary. I took the tube out and, having inflated it, carefully inspected it for any leaks, and found none. I took the tyre off and carefully inspected that; no sign of any foreign bodies so reassembled the wheel with a new tube. I inflated the old tube when I arrived home and, four days later, let it down again and put it back in my saddlebag for future use as a spare. I’d better put a spare spare in as well before going out again.
 
It had been my intention to stop at the Ormiston Yew at some stage and point the fish-eye at it for a spectacular WidWed Challenge entry. Nothing approaching my visualisation managed to materialise but there was this doorway into a ruin. It looked as though the building (known, I think, as “The Haining”) would be spectacularly interesting but, other than this view through the drizzle of the grand entrance, it is spectacularly boring.
 
While I was having coffee and a scone in Ormiston, a very wet cyclist came in; he talked - a lot – mostly about himself, about how he was highly qualified in this, and that, and lots of other things. He was out for a day’s cycle and didn’t have any waterproofs because he didn’t think it was going to rain. This is Scotland – in the autumn – and a highly educated man doesn’t expect it to rain?