January 22nd - Whitton Edge

Woke to the sound of over-excited children and the sight of freshly fallen snow - just a thin coveing, with the grass poking through. Enough, though, to deter the school bus. Hamish claimed that we (i.e. Anna) had promised that if ever the bus couldn't make it up to Whitton, he could have the day off school. Much to his disgust, I bundled him and the twins into the car and drove him the 2 ungritted miles down to the village, dropped him at school and killed the next half an hour playing Pooh-sticks with the little men off the Jubilee Bridge. They arrived at nursery distinctly rosy of cheek and runny of nose, just like weans should be!
Feeling knackered and stiff-backed in the office all morning, and dragged myself out at 3 p.m. to try to catch the rapidly retreating snowline. Caught it at about 900 ft asl, and enjoyed lovely views across to The Cheviot, which at 815m had a good blanket. Must run out there soon...
Felt much better once I started running, and but for a bit of stomach-pain due to too much soup (possibly fermenting - a day past its best!) at lunchtime, I could have said I was back to normal.
I know I keep banging on about our plot, but my sainted mother (Hi, Mum) is still unsure exactly where it is. It's in the first picture below, just to the left of the trees in the middle of the shot. Looks like running country to me! The second picture looks west over Whitton Loch and over to the prominent Ruberslaw, just this side of Hawick.