Tomorrow is Whiteadder Stages 1 and 2 of the Jim Clark Rally -ie through Hutton twice with the village closed off from the outside world for 4 hours. Despite this being a new stage and I would have thought quite a tricky one, there has been little evidence of the Rally drivers checking out the route. I have seen two non rally cars -but possibly driven by drivers taking part-coming through Hutton very cautiously but obviously having a good look at the corners. There has been activity down by the ford where a car or two may come a cropper as there is a large hole under water and only just off the causeway. The Rally has already started so I doubt if there will be much of a reconnaissance this evening.
Mr Deakin sent us a beautiful morning. Huttonian had his first ever round of golf at Goswick- a sort of poor man's Royal Co Down (PBUI). I had recently had my long serving golf shoes repaired by the shoeman in Berwick. The sole came off the right shoe and was apparently glued back on again with the promise (after a long hard look at me) that it would see me out. Can't beat the old super glue said the traditional craftsman rubbing his hands in anticipation of the forest of notes that were just about to cross both of them in recognition of his ancient professional arts. At the 5th, the sole -yes of the right shoe-came off with a flourish. We were at the furthest point from the golf course and we finished the first nine with the right shoe only being used for the longer shots and with me limping in along the fortunately dry fairways like 'diddle diddle dumpling my son John' I did however get some extra footage (no pun intended)into my drives by hissing 'Cobblers' at the moment of impact. No spare shoes in my car so we had to terminate our outing after the first 9. And to add insult to injury my partner advised me not to enter the club house as golf shoes, even soleless ones are not permitted in the lounge nor are visitors (or members) allowed to show a length of red hose from the ankle down.
I will be taking the shoe back to the master cobbler and will enquire exactly how long it was that he expected me to live after the last repair job. He can keep the shoe for his Black Museum and a small refund will hrelp me towards the purchase of a replacement pair. I fear that prices will have gone up since 1957.