Coulter Reservoir

I was amused this morning as I exited the Dower House on my way to cycling the marches, that there were several clusters of revellers, not yet having made it home, and who were fooling about and playing a bugle in the early morning silence of the Meadows.
I waved as I passed by, but pedalled very quickly lest their intentions were less than honourable.

Later, his Lordship and I escaped the razzmatazz of inner city Edinburgh for the peace of the hills around Coulter near Biggar.
This is the Wednesday stamping ground of his "Last of the summer wine" pals, and he wanted us to have a picnic up near the Coulter Reservoir. And so we did , down by a burn at the southern end, under a lively sky and surrounded by hills of purple heather and sheep grazing, almost invisible, in deep bracken. And not a soul in sight.
A lovely restorative outing.

My phone which played up so badly yesterday by not putting my emails in the right place and more frighteningly playing the Hallelujah chorus, loudly and unprompted several times at 2 minute intervals, has decided to do the decent thing after I unsynced my Facebook app and deleted George F Handel from my music file.

Now my emails plop into the right place and all appears well.
My theory is that the phone didn't like the interaction of my two email addresses when syncing different apps.
Why the Hallelujah chorus got involved is anyone's guess.

My own home grown guru, speaking from Eastern Europe tells me that glitches like this can happen and there's nothing like eliminating a few apps to put things right.
I suppose it's a bit like unplugging a badly behaved TV, or digital radio and surprising them into being cooperative.

I don't think I have to continue looking for the box now, but I'd better brave the internet again and tell them.