Tulips from Ayr

Some tulips droop as soon as they're put in a vase, while others stand up like soldiers.
These tulips from Ayr, courtesy of my 'mislaid' friend, are obviously from the first battalion Scots guards, so straight and proud do they stand on my window sill.

They may well be on parade again when out of their prime, because old age suits them well.

With spring in the air if not quite in our step yet, there was a little work to be done on the patio tubs. We have not had much rain recently and everything seemed rather dried out and straggly, a bit like I feel at times.

Working outside invites conversations through the railings to passers by and at lunch time it was a fellow cyclist who stopped his bike and chatted.

There is a long cycle run today for the young ( and not so young) and fit, in memory of Audrey Fyfe, our friend who was killed last year while cycling in Edinburgh.
It takes in the serious Redstone Rig hill climb near Gifford, before lunching at Dunbar and returning to Musselburgh.

I'm afraid neither his Lordship and I are fit enough for that amount of effort at the moment: too many cakes over the winter have taken their toll, but as from tomorrow we're going to mend our ways.
The danger is that, as they say, tomorrow never comes.