Why does Klængur do this?
It’s his thing. First he eats his food and then he picks up his bucket and waves it around the place.
Most odd. No one else does but him. Always. Anyway, we went for a lovely ride, very fast now we have four feet shod. And then we rode the oldies and went very fast all over again. Obviously it was a speedy day.
In the afternoon, I popped over to my neighbour to pick gooseberries and blackcurrants.
They grow in a square walled garden in the middle of her pony field and sensibly my neighbour had put nets over the fruit bushes early on so there was plenty to pick.
Afterwards, we sat outside, had a cup of tea and looked at the lovely croft.
There is a sundial that needs re-setting.
It is truly a beautiful place.
The an old water-mill.
We also went and picked the wild mint that grows by the stream. It makes the best tea.
This burn starts in the hill (Stourbrough) behind us and then trickles down through Thordale and then down through this one (Finniegert) ending up shortly at the sea. We had lots of rain last night so it was fairly high.
Finniegert is a old place – there are fiddle tunes about it too by a previous resident, Peter Fraser. He wrote The Burn o’ Finnigirt, the Hill o’ Finnigirt, the Yard o’ Finnigirt, Da muckle reel o’ Finniegirt……
A good day doing nice stuff.