Penicuik sounds like "pennycook."It's early Sunday morning, I'm awake early, and it's raining. I hear birds.
I'm uploading photos, but it's going slowly. I'll add a picture of the view out this window, when or if it uploads.
At home, we're a mile up, and the top of the Sandia mountains is another mile up. That seems proportionally like something here. I'm in a room filled with small and varied treasures, and here's a sample:
For those who can't read this script, it says
I wish thee many pleasures
My true and valued friend;
May all life's choicest blessings
Your peaceful walks attend;
May honour guard your footsteps
And plenty crown your store;
And when your cup of friendship's full
May love still brim it o'er.
I don't know whether it was original, quote, song lyrics or traditional autograph-book sentiment, but it's pretty. It was written down a little over a hundred years ago. I'm staying in a house that was a little over a hundred years old when that was written, looking out at a garden of flowers and a gate in a hedge, and a drystone wall built by my host who is a master in that art. Beyond that is a field, partly plowed and either growing something low and green, or not yet planted (both, maybe). The edges of the field have tall trees—not a row of trees around, but thick forestyness just at the edges.
The rain has stopped.