Oo’re an th’bus…

Exclaimed a wee lassie as she settled in to her seat just ahead of me. The bus was new and spotlessly clean and I tracked its arrival on the excellent Border Buses app, all the way from its departure in Kelso to the bus stop a short walk from my front door. They are a long way from the old Lowland Scottish Seddon Pennine 7s which rattled their merry way along this route back in my youf. So far so good, but now I must rely on Scotrail for the train sector of my bus-train-walk journey to Leith.

Earlier, I woke to the cat lying on my chest, staring at me and purring loudly. This is Defcon2 and precedes Defcon1, which is often violent and sometimes bloody (my blood). After feeding and then kicking him out the back door, I stumbled into the kitchen and stood on some hairy cat sick, presumably deposited during the night. Bastardo .

A morning of painting and visiting the recycling centre (the dump in old language) awaited so I took my time over my coffee, toast and marmalade and marvelled at the Tory MPs on TV trying to make the best of a bad lot by betting on the date of the general election (whilst knowing exactly which date had been selected). A final cherry of fraud on top of their well baked cake of pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth. Quite a bunch, but nothing new if you study political history, and I dare say the next mob are already trying to hide one or two skeletons.

I’m on the train now and alarmed by the large amount of Giant hogweed growing at the trackside. From Gorebridge to Brunstane it’s quite thick in places. Jings.