More Bluebells

I'm reminded, as I type, that once upon a time I could wander into the local pub and swig ten or more pints of foaming brew and climb aboard my trusty Triumph (just a 250cc in those days) and fall asleep as I rode home. Those days are happily gone.

However, the newly refurbished and reduced establishment I blipped a month back is currently serving a fine pint of Uley Pig's Ear, and I may have had at least, oh, I don't know, say, two of them? Janet had a whole one and started talking about Brexit to people who might previously have voted for me... Ah well. The next election is years away.

Earlier, I may have ridden past this spectacular field and come to a shuddering halt before running back with my camera. What a delight! Clearly owned by a member of the Borders gentry, I wasn't inclined to face off against shotgun or Doberman and simply snapped from the roadside.

There may be Zzzz's ahead.