Border Raider? I guess this must have been what it was like when Young Lochinvar came out of the west to woo the fair Ellen. Skulking in the trees across the river from her family castle — H-mmm — wonder which window her old man has locked her behind — The old bugger wants a big dowry for her and has promised her hand in marriage to a rich old codger from south of the border — Ahh – this looks promising. There’s no windows round the back. Maybe I can creep in from behind and steal her away — But it’s going to mess up my fine doublet and hose wading across there — Better to head upstream and look for a bridge – ah-ha – that one in the distance looks promising — A bridge that Dr Beeching missed when he was commissioned to rip all the branch lines out of Scotland back in 1966 — Beeching did more damage to the Scottish infra-structure than Oliver Cromwell ever could — No worries – I’m in ‘creepin up the back’ mode now — getting closer — ever closer — Maybe I should guddle a trout or two from the laird’s larder while I’m here — because after all that creepin aboot I never did get in to see the Fair Ellen — Truth can be stranger than fiction. Thanks to the wonders of Wilkipedia I found after I’d put up my blog that the ghost of Jean Douglas is said to haunt Neidpath Castle — Her father refused to let her marry her lover – the Laird of Tushielaw who was considered to be beneath her station. Left in isolation she pined away to a bag of bones and no doubt died of malnutrition – or – if you are a romantic – a broken heart. Sir Walter Scott’s poem ‘The Maid of Neidpath’ tells the story much better than I can 🙂   Border Raider