Why do I garden?

I've just stumbled back in from the garden - it is a bit cold out there now and I am pretty sure I heard the kettle call my name several times. Being on hands and knees and not moving very much whilst weeding (I love weeding, it clears the head and gives me permission to think or not to think, but to just be) however, I found I was clenching my teeth to stop them chattering.

First thing this morning - just after 7am, I pottered out in to the garden to take Moss for her first morning leg stretch and piddle and in the early sunlight I was taken how much my garden has gently moved on. We've been away for a couple of nights (wild camping up in the North Pennines) and in that short space of time - so much and yet so little has happened.

It said on the radio this morning that March had been the wettest on record for 40 years and although I did think it was a 'tad damp' (good northern understated term), I didn't think it had been that wet. I suppose, living in the lea of the Pennines we were bound to get our generous share of rain.

After a morning session in a private garden where I disembowelled a 14 year old compost heap on to very hungry and grateful flowerbeds. When I started here, the compost was an enormous unruly pile which dominated the corner it was residing in. It's taken three years to beat it back into submission and now after today's marathon digging and mulching, I just may have tamed the beast - I still have one more bay to empty but I can see that it is far less of a mountain in comparison - more of a molehill!

Just getting my hands back into the soil and feeling the weak sunlight on my face is such a boost. That combined with the scent of the awakening earth and newly emerging shoots is wonderful. However by mid afternoon the sun has slipped behind thin grey cloud and the temperature has plummeted - brrrrr. Definitely time for a brew. Happy - most definitely.

a bit of this, a bit of that and a whole lot of nothing...

That moment when you inhale the fresh air and you can feel it rush down into your lungs with a sharp tang. Enough to make your eyes water and your tail wag.

***

That sentence I wrote nearly ten days ago, I got that far, added a pile of images and then stopped. The story didn't flow and the fingers didn't know what to say, so I shelved it. Life has carried on, both mundane and mad.... so nothing out of the ordinary, I just lacked the 'omph' to write. So, today, on a rather chilly grey Tuesday with a half drunk mug of tepid tea, I shall endeavour to type a little more.

There are, I am relieved to see, signs of spring both at work and in my garden at home. Winter - apart from a couple of particularly Baltic weeks, was more blah that artic although there is talk of a sudden stratospheric warming event making it almost inevitable that winter will return with a vengeance!

Not generally know for my status as a 'Domestic Goddess' 👁️👁️.... I have been both crocheting and baking with reasonable success.

Honey Biscuits - these have gone down an absolute storm with the family, if you like honey, these are definitely worth a try. I haven't managed to take a photo of the ones I have baked, but Youngest's lovely girl has made them and sent this image of a successful trayful of yummy goodness!

The crochet blanket - using the Woodland Ripple pattern by Attic24 in autumnal (woodlandy) shades is gently growing. It is my go-to-keep-my-hands-busy thing in the evenings but after some days at work, all I do is slump with glazed over eyes on the settee!!

Funnily enough, I actually do like sewing in the ends. To me that signals a successful completion to the creation of the blanket.

We've done some cracking good walks recently but I don't want to overwhelm you with one walk story after another. You'll just have to take my word for it and see that Moss's face says it all🌞

Hope the rest of your week is gentle and kind and brings a smile to your face and a wag to your tail xxxxxxx

Midweek walking

There is a lot to be said for midweek walking. While the year is too early in the growing season to start up my round of private gardens, I have the delicious (if poorly paid!) delight of two days a week spending time with these two....

The bog trotter who delights in finding every.single.muddy.path.or.pool.or.trench and then sampling the contents by jumping in..... Happy little dog......🙄

And the husband. 

He and the dog outwalk me every time, but years ago I learnt to slow down and walk at a pace which was good for me. Himself calls it 'cat-walking' when I stop and stare, take photos, breathe the air and just be - me.

This particular walk took us up and over Hare Lane (although not a single hare was spotted - the air was a bit too raw and I suspect all the hares were hunkering down out of the breeze) then down into the neighbouring village where we sat and nibbled on super rich and super sweet valentine's day fudge. Both of us wishing we'd brought a flask of tea to dilute the fudge but still savouring the wicked sweetness of the chunks.

Then after nearly three hours of walking while being blustered about by the wind, we returned home. The kettle went on (we were still in need for that mug of tea) and we sat, feeling battered by the weather, quietly recovering.

Thank you for your lovely comments on my last post - they do mean a lot! And, my parting shot for this post is a photo of the info board I put out at work when the gate is open to invite folk in to visit the garden .... we are definitely in a Fool's Spring - I'm just waiting for the Second Winter to land with a mighty bang!

Recipe for Saturday

 Ingredients:

Take a day with a welcome addition of gentle of sunlight

One over enthusiastic mud attracting dog

One patient husband who will carry said tired dog up an almost vertical stile, 

then back down the other side 

so she does not have to jump down to the very much lower field 

Add generous piles of crunchy leaves strewn through the woodlands

Top up with generous amounts of water - almost any variety will do

Randomly insert drovers tracks, farm lanes, bridle paths and byways

Spice up with a flask of steaming hot curried lentil soup and hunks of bread

Sweeten with a surprise clump of delicate snowdrops in the middle of the moors

Mix well and serve with copious amounts of chilly air, 

long distanced views and empty horizons - simmer for nearly 7 miles.                   

Optional extras:

bring along crochet for a little 'in car entertainment'

Have in generous helpings and repeat as often as you can. 

It does wonders for your soul 💚

24 hours

Snapshots from the weekend - a brief visit to the coast.

Moss, who is back to her normal (almost) bouncy self  'wearing' a mudpack set of black boots... she smelt 'delightful'!

Bluebells nodding in the brisk breeze on Saturday afternoon - their fragrance whipped away before I could smell it, will have to wait for a less windy day...

St Helen's Church, Overton - one of the oldest churches in Lancashire thought to originate around 1050 - 1140, depending on which wall you look at with evidence of both Norman and Saxon architecture.

A heron tentatively dipping a toe into the estuarine waters - it was incredibly choppy with spray breaking off each little wave.

We walked around Bazil Head (a small farmed peninsular) where the coastal defences are huge boulders piled up against the land preventing erosion during stormy weather. Someone with a sense of humour created this ....

With my back to 'Stone Face' I photo-ed the view - Himself and Moss ahead of me of course.

Further round, in a marshy inlet there is a fine line where the land starts and the sea ends with the fence as the marker, although it does appear as if the sea breaches that manmade barrier on a regular basis.

All around the headland were small red place names - obviously a community who love and care for their little headland on the edge.

Then as the sun began to set, we watched four hares loping around the fields below us. We could make out two male and two female and although there was no boxing or chasing, there was definitely a platonic group happening as they grazed in the lengthening shadows.

In the morning after breakfast and a dog walk  (wallowing, stick hunting, mud puddling, sniffing and running. Insert any or all listed ...) we packed the van - with a list of chores to be done we returned home to make the most of Sunday afternoon.

Hope your weekend was a good one 😊

Spring Sunshiney Saturday

For what seems quite a long time, Himself and I (and Moss of course) jumped in the van and spent some time on the hills walking miles and miles. 

Although I had hoped to set off Friday evening, we were both rather tired so opted for a night a home first then we set off early-ish Saturday morning.

Driving any distance these days has to take into consideration the price of fuel, so we bumbled slowly across country taking in the definite signs of spring. The lower fields were so full of lambs of all sizes from the teeny tiny wobbly legged versions to the more bouncy chunky 'mini' sheep size which were racing around in 'schools' around their mums.  We were going to stop in a lumpy farmer's field just outside of Leyburn.

Our first walk started from village of Wensley along the river Ure. Moss was unsurprisingly delighted, throwing herself in at every opportunity.

We stopped for break on a large fallen branch overlooking the river and breathed the fresh air. We could taste that tang of spring - a sharp metallic feel to the air, it was so delicious. Green shoots and catkins were in abundance as they pushed through last years twigs and sticks. We'd brought along a flask of tea, chocolate digestives (and dog biscuits of course) as we watched the river burble by.

The path led us up to a rather Victorian/Medieval pastiche bridge with a bit of an interesting history. We took our lives in our hands crossing it as there were no footpaths for about 200 metres and despite the narrowness of both the bridge and the road, traffic hurtled along it as thoughtless speeds - the worst being the tractor drivers - shame on you.

Middleham Bridge , now a Grade 2 listed building, has a rather interesting inscription which I managed to quickly snap a photograph between vehicles, unfortunately I still could not make it out, so with a bit of research I found this ...

'THIS BRIDGE was erected by Voluntary Subscription

A.D. 1830, RALPH RIDDELL ESQr. of Cheeseburgh Grange, Northumberland having

very generously contributed thereto thro' the medium of Mr. J. DOUTHWAITE

his Agent by a gift of the land on which the North Abutment and Wing Walls

are built. Messrs. HANSOM & WELCH, Architects'

The return journey was higher up (and much quieter) on the valley side, through farmlands and on simple tracks, finally returning to the village of Wensley and the van. It was time to drive up to the farm and set up for the night. The view from our stop was rather pleasant overlooking rooftops of the outskirts of Leyburn over towards the distant hills. After we'd eaten we wandered down into the town and did the touristy thing of looking at the shop windows.

source

We did pop into one cornucopia of culinary delight - Campbell's of Leyburn and bought some very essential supplies - shortbread, gingercake and some rather delicious locally made vintage marmalade. As it was getting late we left and promised ourselves we'd return tomorrow for 'serious further investigations'!!

Once we'd returned to the van we had to sample our foraged treats and cracked on the kettle, nibbled both the shortbread (ooh yum) and the ginger cake (swoon!) as we watched the sun go down behind the horizon. It had been a really good day, nearly eight miles of walking, swimming for Moss, glorious spring sunshine and there was still Sunday to enjoy!

More to follow ....... 

Sounds, sights and scents of Saturday

The rustle of heavy paws across the duvet accompanying a rapid tractor-strength purr. The quiet background chatter of the radio presenter cheerfully announcing the next generic track by another cloned singer desperate to be heard.

The murmurings of low conversation, an occasional scrape of a wooden chair against the floor, the clink of teaspoons stirring, slurping of hot chocolate followed by sounds of satisfaction. The heady scent of coffee and chocolate filling the air. Then the busy street filled noises of a rural market town as we return to the car.

The splash of a river bound dog hurling herself into the chilly water, the clink of selecting pebbles to skim. The audible gasp of minor triumph as we lark along the edge. The chinkle of pottery, glass and metal in my coat pocket as I walk. Not all worth keeping, litter will be dropped off in a bin.

A piercing whistle as we are observed by a robin - just an arm's reach away. Eldest's cellphone making electronic sounds as he takes the bird's photograph.

A sharp fragrance of fresh air, a tinge of bitter green and leaf mould circulating as we walk along the narrow path between a wild tanglement of hedge and old bulging stone wall.

Flashes of hope for spring with the tiniest leaf buds appearing on the hawthorn.

The crunch-thud of boots alongside the mill pond known as Sagar's Lake, coots craaking, mallards peeping and quacking. 

The sight of the woodburner crackling away warming us after our walk as we nurse mugs of tea and eat shortbread pigs.

The turn of a page of a recently charity shopped book, the distinctive scent of second hand novels. A strange and intriguing little story - odd yet enjoyable.

A whistling snore from an afternoon-nap-taking cat - who on gentle stroking - grunts a dozy meow followed by a brief attempted purr. 

Twitching paws and eyelid movements confirm a dreaming dog as she sleeps in front of the woodburner. Her tongue has escaped and occasionally curls and flaps as it dries to a crisp as she sleeps.

Saturday - you were wonderful xxx

PS and now (Monday)? well the constant metallic pitter of rain on the window, the wittering on the radio in the background, the sigh of a bored dog, the clack of the keys on my laptop and the curl of the fresh scent of tea.

💙🐾☔☕☔🐾💙