August 2023

31st

We woken at my flat, had breakfast and drove to the farmhouse.

After noticing marques had been set up at the Roberton show, Charlie fed the sheep.

Feeding the sheep on the paddock, a lamb who I named "fat lips" after his Orf infection, has scold inbetween his cloven hooves. Charlie requests a can of violet spray.

Still mucking out to do in the poly tunnel, however Charlie has made a significant dent enough to get the tractor trailer in.

Early, we drove to Jedburgh to pick up a lot we'd won at Brown's auction house. We came with our trailer as we were picking up a three and two-seater leather sofa. The people there were attentive, loading the trailer whilst Charlie strapped everything in. Driving away, we were disturbed to overhear some chanting coming through the loading area of the auction house, sounded African. This view of Borthwick water is refreshing, I took a photograph whilst Charlie, someplace over the road, away from the water, spent a much needed piss.

The three seater sofa was atleast eight foot long, to big to go through the front and rear doors of the farmhouse. With the help of a neighbour we got the eight foot sofa through the hall window and into the living room. We sat down and enjoyed the sofas in a now lively living room that had been used as a cold, dark store room for years.

To purchase ingredients for our panackelty casserole dish we parked up at Cooperative Supermarket in St Boswells. Mintues after a car appears, pulls up beside our car.

A scruffy woman, sporting nike, an army raincoat, deep throated a banana. Then returning from placing the banana skin in the bin she sexual touched herself up in front of our car.

Unabated, we tended to the welfare of two flocks of sheep at two different locations, then drove along the Ashkirk to Roberton road, the panoramic views of the borders here are outstanding. The openesss of this beautiful view never ceases to invoke awe; enboldening and reinvigorating it is to be outside here.

29th

Another month has passed, only two more days till September. Much commotion outside my flat this morning, I don't react as this aggrevates my generalised anxiety until I have trouble returning to the area. The weather is fine outside, most days I wrestle with irrational aprehensions to initiate enjoying the outdoors.

28th

Been attacked by wasps during the last month, today three wasps were flying upon our car outside Morrisons supermarket, Hawick. I was also attacked yesterday, again at Selkirk, have swollen allergic reaction all down my left leg. Did you know wasps advertise aggressiveness by the markings on their heads. The more black spots, the more ferocious it is. I've noticed black sheep that are born from a mostly white flock are considerably more fearless, brash and aggressive.

I had two hours to wait for my B12 injection, so I popped into the Trinity bar, to gain some perspective from the other day. The B12 injection was straight forward, I am at my last ampoule. The nurse enquired if I felt better for taking them, replying I stated that I fell asleep drinking tea and coffee; both physical and mental health has improved significantly. But being in Hawick has healed me also, having sheltered from suffering extremities of cold and heat, wind and rain.

27th

It's a mild sunny morning and Charlie has rested, I am optimistic that many jobs on the farmhouse are going to be near completed today. Charlie made a significant dig into the poly tunnel muck, loading and transporting five trailers up to the top of the paddock. I cleaned the farmhouse, the amount of dust in the carpet is incredible, emptied the chocked up hoover several times. We noticed work has begun setting up the Roberton show.

Visited a Woodside Plant Centre, the establishment was sieving with animosity, more so in their Birdhouse Tearoom, Charlie purchased coffee and strawberry cheesecake as I caught two workers eyes whilst they were having a conversation about us. This happens every time we revisit a place, more so after a duration of time. We bagged chaff for the sheep, and packed two other bags, rich in wheat, for our elderly neighbour [also socially isolated] who enjoys feeding birds in his garden.

26th

Hung over this morning, sleepless during the night with a sore stomach, it's Charlies birthday today. We had a meal in the Cross Keys restuarant in Denholm, the bill came to £56, Charlie is 56 years old today; his birthday, that they cannot overshadow or dispossess hapless. I found such appalling isolatation when I arrived here, no more will they inflict such a deprivation on our people.

Returning to the farmhouse I strimmed the paddock of dock leaves, then hung out with the flock for half an hour. When I sat down to rest, they all came to me, flooded tears to my eyes that these animals can recognise worth in me.

Below was the same lamb sick during March this year, limp and almost dead from wet mouth. This was my first contact with lambs, so Charlie was distraught. They go downhill so quickly, he had no idea this would happen. I nursed and nursed her until she became well.

Early on in the day, with the heavy down pour of rain in mind, I took some pictures, let go of sorrows into a burn that flows through the glen by our farmhouse. We have two neighbours that are our friends, they live in the farmhouse cottages and are English.

The other neighbours small talk, when they don't want to feel ignorant; at best I believe them [both English and Scots] to be stuck up snobs. This beautiful, wild, area of the Scottish Borders, has healed me.

25th

After a visit to Jedburgh, Charlie dropped me along Hawick High street to do some shopping. Figuring a no to do I walked the length, over the river Teviot, stopped at William Lockie, then past Sainsbury's and Aldi supermarkets, crossed over the Teviot again and took a left. At the end of the street I stumbled upon a lively establishment named the Trinity Bar.

I drank Tenets with Fireball chasers as I observed the pub, the bar maid rushed off her feet and a group of men gathered around the pool table. Beside me was an old guy named Ian Armstrong, he told me he could not see, asked me to light his cigarette, then sometime later lit it himself up; he pulled out a twenty pound note, asked if the note was ten, my honesty?

I knocked back four pints and six fireball chasers before Charlie arrived at the bar in his car from finishing work. He ordered a pint of bitter, whilst I encouraged him to play a game of pool. As I did, he lost the game, but denounced himself as a bad player rather than complimenting his opponent on their winning. The police entered, searching for a man, not present. We walked the high street, stopping at the Queens head, where we were bemused by a middle-aged woman who bared an uncanny resemblance to Pauline from the League of Gentleman; not just by her appearance, but by her social presentation. Despondence was greeted by a deep voiced, wide shouldered elderly woman that made an effort to be friendly. Seated in the Cooper's bar were creepy males, we noticed a handicapped man I had recognised from the Waverley bar, he flopped his bare basketball belly up and down as he stumbled across an eighties style, disco lit dance floor. Charlie commented on the barmaid being unfriendly, in observant retrospective of the bar's creepy clientele, I replied "rightly so". Further along the high street we noticed a lively Office Bar, but at this stage of the evening, after the last two bars, did not feel lively enough to enter. We found our one time professional darts player neighbour seated alone in the Exchange Bar, seating ourselves with drinks we humoured him with a caricature description of our day out in Hawick.

24th

I have pain in my body from over use of a strimmer; the dock leaves on the paddock have been shredded now. Sam [Charlie's rescued sheepdog] enjoyed what we could not eat of the steak and onion pie late last night. He sits in his kennel a lot because there is not much to do about him in there. Through his anxieties he appears to view the eventuality of his world as a hauntology omen, often I coax him into the farmhouse with a dog treat. Sam enjoys chewy sticks and meaty strips; loud noise stresses him but excited he chases, encircling motion.

Initally we built the kennel so Sam could have dry off time before re-entering the farmhouse. Frozen solitude seems to abate his anxieties, but this isn't living is it, he has to be thawed out. I enjoy staying at the farmhouse, similar to Sam unnatural noises bother me, because of hypersensitivity wrought from hypervigilance. Even after one year sheltered inside a flat, I am trigger jumpy, tormented with flashbacks rewinding and playing over day after day, week after week, month after month and year after year.

23rd

The sheep, contented on chewing cud, were unmotivated to return to the paddock and graze. One of my cade lambs, stood against the gate, refusing to move whilst I attempted to close the flock into the paddock. Winter is approaching and there is so much to do with mucking out and improving ventilation of the poly tunnel. Charlie put up the poly tunnel when the farmhouse barn was sold off for property development, but years later the land is still idle, thank god.

Our kitchen garden is dead, blight killed our potato crop, birds ate our onions, swedes, and French dwarf beans. We learned a lot about growing veg within the Scottish Borders, and next year plan for a bountiful garden. We are planting blight resistant potatoes, placing boards underneath the garden's perimeter fencing and hanging bird nets; this should be enough unless addition measures are thought of. This is the first time in a decade I've made plans months ahead.

In the evening, I made an attempt at baking a steak and kidney pie. Charlie purchased chopped steak and a joint of silverside, the silverside was better quality meat, and more of it for a cheaper price. I enjoyed mixing the ingredients together and rolling out the pastry; topping the pie with a pastry tractor emblem before brushing on an egg yolk glaze. The farmhouse oven / cooker has become unpredicable after twenty years of use, which is difficult as I rely heavily on predictability, observations obscured due to being traumatised blind with abuses.

For half an hour this pie seemed not to have cooked, ten minutes later Charlie peeked inside the oven to find the egg glaze had burned. With reinvigorated faith, he placed the pie onto a lower shelf, and turned on pots of potatoes, cabbage and carrots I'd chopped earlier. Potatoes were mashed undercooked, so we placed the mash into a microwave, the vegetables were OK. We ate late at 10:30pm, tearfully tired was I but hid this from Charlie who'd had a long day at work. Failures provide insight, so all is, alas, not lost; he enjoyed the pastry.