For the time being.............

There isn't much time left before I write my exams, 

 So I am going bury myself in my books and disappear until mid July - 

please excuse me if I seem to have become invisible, 

it's because you can't see me behind the pile of books!

til then............

xxxx

Singing

Things that make my heart sing.

A bird's feather catching the breeze.

A beautifully knitted brooch for a birthday gift.

Drinking tea from a thoughtfully chosen mug.

 Finding the most teeny-weeny perfect fern frond.

Wearing a new favourite ring - a spinning Celtic ring - another very thoughtfully gifted birthday present

Finding beauty in rust and history

Being gifted gemstones and 'found' stones by people who know my love for these little spherules

 
Wearing something ancient and modern, ammonite and silver.

Being tickled by somebody small and green
.....these are some of the things that make my heart sing.

And reading your comments and thoughts - they make my heart sing too - thank you xx

War Horse

Himself bought us tickets to see the stage production of War Horse at the Alhambra  Theatre Bradford. It was WonDeRFuL!

We sat high up in the upper circle on seats no wider than a school ruler with non existent leg room but none of that mattered when the curtain went up and the narrator started to sing in a most delicious folky voice.

Then the horse came on stage and after the initial recognition that three men were working a life sized puppet I very quickly was drawn into the story and the horse became alive. The movements and noises made were so realistic and the actors reaction to the horse only confirmed that Joey (horse) was real and this was no long a stage production but a farm in Devon or an auction mart or the fields of Flanders with bombs and tanks and barbed wire.

I cried.

Several times.

Tears streamed down my face.

My heart leapt and sank and I had goose bumps and I even found that I had covered my mouth with both hands to prevent myself from crying out when Joey was tangled in barbed wire in no-man's land.

The puppetry was so good that when horses and soldiers were killed on the battle field, I wept.

Explosions were deafening, bombs and bullets were real so so terrifyingly real.

And when two debilitated and dying horses were whipped on stage as they valiantly tried to pull a field gun - a man and his young son next to me left, the youngster could take no more heart break.

Suddenly it was finished and we stumbled out of the theatre - almost drained yet elated at the brilliance of it all.


If you ever get a chance to see it - do so, not the film, no, but the theatre production - it is worth every bottom-numbing, knee cramped moment.

Sea to sky part 2

 

Second time around.

Dear dear hat I love you so much.

Not that I didn't love the first version - I did, but somehow we did not gel. However, 2nd hat - you are my favourite one now. You didn't knit up as smoothly as I had anticipated, we did have some disagreements and disappointments but when I cast off and wove in your ends - I fell in love, deeply in love.

So much so that I took you for your first walk today - Sunday - on a bright and sunny day.

And I didn't CaRe! Because you were there, on my rather warm head.

I love the way you slouch over my head in a devil may care sort of way looking laid back and lazy. Thank goodness for a sneaky breeze up on the moorland tops and the cooler air by the river.

And as usual, I have tinkered with the pattern (not that I am proficient enough of a knitter really to do such a frippery nonsense) but still I am happy with the result.

Ah - HaPpY mE!!!

A gentle end to a very happy week and weekend.  So many wonderful things happened and I have really enjoyed these last few days.  I will, over the course of the week share some of them with you.

How are you? Had a lovely weekend? I hope so, go on - share what you got up to :) I love to hear what you do xxxx

passeggiata

Friday evening.

After a week of amazing friends, wonderful family, gifts and cake, all I wanted, all I needed was a bit of fresh air, big sky and a passeggiata*.

 As we walked along, feeling the receding gentle warmth of the evening sun, I thought on the last few days.  I celebrated my birthday mid week and I have been surrounded by love and generosity. I have been touched at the thoughtfulness of my dear friends and family.  

Thank you all - so very very much xxx

 

 

We sat beneath the beech trees and gazed at the view. We were in no hurry, we just needed to breathe.

*passeggiata - an evening stroll taken not for exercise but for pleasure.

Knitting notes

Not that I managed much knitting whilst on the hills, doing most of it in the car to and from our walk, I still try and take it out with me. Even if I can only manage a few stitches, I like to think that the surroundings are picked up by the wool and woven into the pattern.

I like to look at something I have made and know that memories of hills and blue skies or the scent and sounds of the sea have been incorporated into the making.

Sitting sipping at a hillside mug of tea, taking in the view and k1, LT, k6, RT, kl seems to make a walk  all that more special, all that more magic.

old bones

Weather bleached bones litter the hillsides. 

Mostly sheep, occasionally rabbit or weasel, sometimes a bird skull and beak. 

I often wonder at the demise of the owners of these bones. 

Did they die naturally? 

Did the fall prey to a hungry fox? 

Did the snows over winter seep their last remaining energy and lying down and sleeping 

till they died was the most natural thing to do?  

Nothing is wasted. 

The flesh is all gone, eaten, scavenged by passing animals, 

wool and fur taken for nesting material. 

All that is left are reminders of lives gone.

Into the blue

Our plans to set off first thing Saturday morning ended up with us only leaving just before lunchtime. With our eyes on the grey skies and coats, hats and gloves packed in our bags we arrived at the tiny hamlet of Halton Gill in Littondale. We had been going to walk up to and along the ridge of hills surrounding Halton Gill however, as we only had the afternoon left to us - we shorten our route a fair bit. 

Still. 

Just to be out. 

On the hills, heads in the cloud was enough. 

The only sounds were our footsteps, sky larks singing their defensive songs, lapwings calling overhead and the distant but ever present bleating of sheep.

We sat on a small alp as we ate our belated lunch and watched the clouds melt away leaving the most eye achingly beautiful blue drenched sky. As much as I tried I could not drink in all the wild isolated beauty. 

It is times like these that I am so glad to be alive, so glad to be able to visit here and so so very glad that my boys were on the hills with me. Sitting in the grass next to beetles and insects as they buzzed around with their little lives and looking at the enormous vista made me feel very small yet totally complete in one go. An amazing and wonderful feeling.

How was your weekend?

Did you do something amazing?

Did you get out and experience the beauty of being 'out there'?