Over the Hills and Not Far Away

Today became a day out, without any forethought or planning. I needed sock yarn - I can't go on a car trip without a sock to knit ( not when I'm the driver, but I can look out of the window and knit at the same time). The nearest good wool shop is over the Border in a lovely village called Felton, and that's where we found ourselves (in the extras). 

Actually, we'd stopped off in Rothbury, where I found another great little yarn shop, and had to make a purchase ...

You can just spot a man standing on the bridge in the second extra. He proved to be a source of all sorts of interesting information. He told us there are huge sea trout in this river (the Coquet, what a great name for a river. I thought sea trout lived in the sea). But before he'd talk to us, I had to talk to him so he could tell where we came from by my accent ... well, he got that right first time. How nice to be where people have time to talk.

The Felton yarn shop was as good as ever, my nearest and dearest will have warm feet this winter.

Home by a different route, bumbling along towards the Border, we stumbled upon the British Ploughing Championships at Mindrum. The fields looked a bit muddy, but we got an overview as we headed up into the hills. You can catch the World Championships in County Laois next month.