December 24, 2014
Let’s go for a walk, I said.
It’s a glorious day, I said.
It would be criminal to waste an afternoon like this, I said.
We need to get out and enjoy the sunshine while it lasts, I said.
I had forgotten to adjust for this being Duns, home of freak weather.
In fairness to me, it did brighten up a bit later, and we were almost dry by the time we got back in.
April 12, 2014
Babymother and co were up helping Huttonian celebrate his birthday this weekend and we came over to join them. And with spring springing (somewhat gustily, but at least not raining) we took the opportunity to go out for a quick cycle ride.
The Paperbike might be a splendid town bike, but with its cushy fat tyres it handles gravel, mud and ruts with a certain aplomb. The Brompton makes for a rather more skittish ride but is nippy round the potholes, and of course an Islabike is primarily a mountain bike, so we were able to take full advantage of Duns’s forest tracks and off-road paths. Which was fortunate because we weren’t that keen on trying the Borders’ roads.
It was only when I was looking at the pictures afterwards that it occurred to me we were all riding British bikes, all very different but each in their own way quality pieces of engineering.
Why is it we can build the bikes, but not the roads we need to ride them on?
November 21, 2011
We’ve been in Duns, freak weather capital of the UK (currently mild, sunny and pleasant – I told you it was odd) and the other half popped down to the Co-op to pick up a few things for lunch. With just three things in his basket, he headed for the tobacco kiosk to pay and realised that a sweet little old lady had plotted an interception course on the same destination with her laden trolley. Being a gent, rather than speeding up and nipping in front of her, he gestured to her to offer her first spot in the queue.
‘Oh no that’s all right, you go first,’ she said sweetly. ‘I’ll just come and beat you up later.’
As the other half was looking remarkably unscathed as he told this story I asked him how he got away.
‘Oh I waited until I’d paid for my shopping,’ he said. ‘And then said I’d see her outside. But I legged it before she’d finished paying.’
I think on the whole, that was sensible. Those Duns little old ladies pack a serious punch.
Back to inspect the ford tomorrow.
November 4, 2009
…. would appear to be the last town in Britain not to be carpeted in mobile phone shops.
- a marvellous survival of really old-fashioned retail values in a world of high-street clones
- quite a pain in the a*** when you have left home without your phone charger.
Blogging will be a little sporadic for the next few days as we’re remaining in Duns until the weekend. Please try and cope without me.
December 29, 2008
So it’s the run up to Christmas and I’m walking along with Babymother and the babeling, looking for a place to cross to the road to get to the playground in Duns.
Me: Gosh, this is a busy road. (hey, there had been at least two cars just while we were waiting to cross, AND they were going pretty fast too)
Babymother: *withering look* No it’s not.
She’s been patronising me about that one ever since. Londoners, eh?