Friday 16th June - What's that noise?

Heard a strange rapid flapping noise from the other end of the room....


one of my souvenirs of Kircudbright is a helenium plant, handed to me in a small cardboard box. I'm hoping it should eventually become something like this.

https://www.saga.co.uk/magazine/home-garden/gardening/plants/perennials/how-to-grow-heleniums

I've put it on the kitchen windowsill, but hadn't got round to chucking the box into the recycling bin, so it is still on the floor in the dining room.

The cats have been taking it in turns to try it for size. It does seem to be rather small for them, or maybe the cats are just a bit big for the box. Who knows.

The strange sound was Leo waking up and shaking her head, so that her ears were rattling against the sides of the box. Wouldn't you have thought that would be a bit painful?

Sunday 11th June - Sunday in Kircudbright

I know, that was two weeks ago, but things happen and blogs don't get posted...

Church was a good way to start the day - Ascension Day. I was rather puzzled at first, until I realised that the vicar had a Northern Ireland accent instead of the the English one I was used to, or the Scottish one I was expecting. Everything else was familiar - the liturgy of the Church of Scotland is very close to that of Church of England. Singing from a Real Hymn Book (and all singing from the same page - had to put that in before anyone else did) was a blast from the past. It's all overhead projection down our way, and anyway if you are really in the groove you sing with your eyes shut.

Afterwards, the weather cleared, and they had a Sunday Farmers Market as part of the festival - great! I munched my way around the locally produced sausages, pickles, cakes, jams, mustards, ending up at the cheese stall. I would dearly have loved to bring some back as a present, but didn't think it would stand up to the journey in a hot train.

After lunch we set out to a beautiful beach, called Carrick Beach. More disorientation for people more used to the Carrick Roads down in Cornwall.

We wanted to investigate an art installation called "The Edge", part of the art trail. This was delightful; we picked our was along a line of realistic looking driftwood and salvage, all connected to local stories and myths from the villages round about. The start of the trail was marked by a working harmonium, apparently washed up by the sea. This related to a story where the church organ disappeared overnight; apparently it was thrown over a cliff by some of the congregation during some kind of dispute... really?

 
Along the bits of wood and junk were suitcases and boxes and containers

 with letters, photographs, recipe books, dolls, scientific instruments, messages in bottles, clothes, shoes - every one contained a marvel.

I might try and make the Kirk Pudding some day...

The next hour or so consisted of a series of failures to find anywhere that would serve us an early high tea, before the start of a Male Voice Choir concert in Newton Stewart. Never mind. The COOP was still open, and had six packets of sandwiches left. I got bacon lettuce and tomato - not an occasion for pickiness. We sat in the back row of the Presbyterian Church surreptitiously munching - we'd thought the concert began at 7:30 (so did the choir, I overheard) but kick-off was at 7pm.

They were a great choir, all the way from Stoke-on-Trent (award yourself a prize if you saw that coming) and were justly proud of having won the North Wales Choir Competition twice in a row, and being politely asked to enter a different festival next time round. They shared their concert with a very talented young Traditional Scottish Singer, and a local bagpiper to open and close each half.

Long drive home, watching an amazing sunset develop as the day darkened.

Thursday 1st June - Saturday in Kircudbright

I've just come back - on Tuesday evening - from a long weekend reunion with some friends. We used to live within an hour or so of each other, but then one moved to Cornwall, one to Suffolk, and one to Scotland. Get-togethers where we ALL came together in one place became harder to manage, as you can imagine.

Sadly, one of the group died almost exactly a year ago, and our reunion was partly to share memories, as well as catch up on what we had been doing.

We have had a GREAT time - at least I hope I can say that for all of us! I had been watching the weather forecast - blistering hot on the Friday that we were travelling up, and then cold, wet and rainy for the next few days until the Tuesday of our return journey. The reality was not a bit like that...

Saturday started with a walk along the shore of the River Dee, in warm balmy sunshine. A stop for sandwiches part way round was interrupted by the incoming tide which threatened to surround the rocks we were sitting on, and cut off our retreat to the slipway we came down. No matter, we relocated in good time, and the only one who got wet was the dog.

 
  We carried on munching as the sun shone on the fields across the water. It was a most perfect place.

Kircudbright is an artist's town, rather like Newlyn in Cornwall. This weekend past was their "Spring Fling", so we spent the rest of the day dodging hot sweaty marathon runners and prowling round the artist's studios.

This is probably my most favourite image, by Claire Cameron-Smith, from my most favourite studio of the day:

http://www.cameronsmithdesigns.co.uk/home

I hope they don't mind me copying it from their website. I would have bought the print, but made do with buying a card, which I shall be using for a "bread-and-butter" letter - "thank you" letter to our host. These are the traditional "Belties"; Belted Galloway Cattle found in the area. A piece of furniture made by Ian Cameron-Smith would have been a lovely souvenir too; have a look at their website; but too expensive, (and too impractical to bring home on the train).

So, that, apart from food and wine in the evening, was Saturday. I recommend the Fechan Red, well chilled.