Out and about

After an odd week at work where two of the three days in the walled garden flew by at an indecent pace and I was left reeling almost as if I'd stepped off a roller coaster by the end of the day, followed by the slowest Friday I have experienced in a very long time.

It took an age to get to 10.30am, forever to get to 12pm. It then appeared to be 1.45pm for several hours. So to get home was an incredible relief. Sitting on the settee nursing a couple mugs of tea before I could move was the best way to recover.

This weekend was set aside to celebrate Eldest's birthday (which had been earlier in the week). When the boys were little and a birthday was during the school week - they were allowed to choose a weekend to celebrate their birthday and the entire two days would be for them. We still do the whole weekend thing but on a more sedate and grown up way these days .... like visiting historic houses and doing afternoon tea.

The weather at the moment is a bit 'nothing', it is almost as if spring thought she could start to appear is now holding her breath while we all collectively wait apprehensively for the return of a vengeful winter.

I wondered if buds and bulbs are not aware of the dire weather reports we have been subjected to recently and are cheerfully making an appearance. Even my garden which is a bit dull and bland this time of year has been cheerfully singing a song of snowdrops and crocus accompanied by choirs of clematis leaves and song birds.

It was interesting wandering around an historic home and grounds during winter - without out the exuberant garden and its abundant roses and lilies obscuring the architecture. I noticed so much more. 

Despite a fair number of other visitors, there was an air of quiet on the cusp calm. The garden was definitely showing signs of bursting into song but the chill air and grey skies were reminders that winter has not gone yet.

I am typing this early (and I do mean early) Sunday morning having woken up from a restless night and decided that rather than lie and listen to the house creak and the cat snore, I'd come downstairs and quietly enjoy a mug of tea and a quiet moment. It is (and I say this in a whisper) pretending to become light. I might slip back into bed once I've finished meandering around the keyboard.

The old house has had a checkered past, but then - most of them do. East Riddlesden Hall is an oasis of historic charm surrounded by industrial and modern life. I was surprised how much it is looked over by neighbouring suburbia. We've not visited in winter before and the bare trees showed starkly how exposed the house and gardens are when not sheltered by thick green foliage. 

Today  - Sunday - Moss is hoping she'll get a dog walk and I suspect she will have her wish come true. I think flasks and boots (and a camera) may be involved. She'd like that.... the walk part, she's not bothered that much about boots and cameras!

The crochet blanket is growing slowly and the gentle rhythm of the hook and chains is rather soothing in the evenings. I find with blanket making that it seems to start quickly, rows appear and like magic the yarn starts to look like a scarf for a giraffe, but then as it becomes shawl-sized, it slows down and it is only when it is almost big enough for a bed that it seems to have a growth spurt. This one appears to be doing the same....

Hope, whatever you are doing for the rest of your weekend makes you smile -  xxxxxx

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 💚

Tuesday spotlights🤍🤍

The tips of my fingers are still cool as is the end of my nose. The two digestive biscuits and mug of tea tasted amazing once we'd returned from our afternoon walk but are now long gone. The snow and ice that covered the ground first thing this morning (when my car thermometer registered -4.5℃) had begun to melt creating a green and white marble patterning on the grass.🤍💚

Our village has several prominent hills surrounding it and they were all still flecked white and draped in misty layers beneath the dark and heavy skies. Despite that, the sun managed to find chinks in the clouds and fill our walk with warmth and light.💛🤎

Himself, Youngest, Moss and I did our local 'dog-loop' which is our go to short walk when weather permits. 🧡❤️

I am sure - almost 99% sure - that I have spotted our first Highland Coo calf but the mum was a large and hairy barrier and all I could see were little legs beneath her tum. No lambs yet - far too cold to give birth outside and the ewes that are out in the fields are still 'mums-with-tums'!

It is dark now, Moss has been fed and is gently snoring while she dreams dog dreams, Himself is in the kitchen baking an apple crumble as I type here. After a rather long morning of completing on-line mandatory training - it is little precious moments like these that make my day.💙💜

Hope you have had some of those today too (and I don't mean the mandatory training!!)

Sunday Sunday - so good to me

After days and days (and days) of rain or chilly winds, today is clear and still and although still cold, in the sun it feels warm!

We leave the cosiness of the house and woodburner and set off for a Moss-led dog loop. It seems that other dogs and their owners had felt the same pull - to be out and getting some air! We walk up 'Dead Duck Lane' - not in our usual yomping style as we try to forge our way through the weather, no it is far more meandering. We stop to see if any of the local sheep had lambed and although they must almost be at bursting point, the ewes determinedly chew winter weary grass in the soft sunshine.

We carry on up on to another lane, around another sheep field, past a large house with a small and rotund elderly jack russell. A raspy yip yip was all it can manage then it sighs at our lack of respect and toddles back to the house. In it's 'hey-day' it was a nasty piece of work with reputation of 'quick to bark-quick to bite' which unfortunately landed it's owner is 'the dwang' when they requested a home visit by a doctor who on arrival discovered that not only was the owner not at home, but was then both barked at and bitten by the jack russell. Suffice to say - the doctor wisely got back in the car, drove back to the surgery and rang the owner and had a word or two.....

We continue to follow Moss up a narrow farm track with large and mature trees full of holes and splits and hollow trunks. They are fragile and venerable and beautiful. Sadly I can see that once they start to fall, they will not be replaced. I stroke their grizzled old bark as I pass. I am sure I can hear them whisper their stories to the wind.

 Despite the quantity of rain we have had, the fields although wet are surprisingly mud free. Moss makes the most of the seasonal ponds and drags Himself through the centre. 

This field is also full of expectant ewes, so Moss remains on her lead and because she can not gallop up to the next puddle we can watch a small and garrulous flock of gulls bathing in the fresh water or 'puddling' for worms as they trot on the spot until they can catch a witless worm.

The fresh air, which when we first set off felt icy and sharp, now feels invigorating and restorative and the soft sunlight gently bathes a wintery landscape in an almost translucent peachy glow. Popping up here and there are bright green blades of various bulbs - a bit too soon, their enthusiasm will wane next week when the temperatures are forecast to plummet. Here is to the ewes who will hopefully be indoors soon when they are due to lamb.

So, another weekend has slipped by. We have had Youngest and his lovely girl staying with us for a couple of days - now, Sunday evening, the house once again cosy and warm with the fire keeping Moss in a state of molten fluff as she basks in it's glow. Monday tomorrow, and at this very moment I am not ready for it - but I know by the time I get up, into my work kit and in the car - I will be ready for a day of mulching well rotted manure.... bring it on! 

Winter winds blow

With heavy fast moving rain forecast and winds lashing the trees back and forth it seemed a 'good time' to go for a walk .... said Moss...... and we (strangely) agreed.

Wrapped up well - to the point on waddling not walking and finding it almost impossible to bend, we set off. Down the main road through the village, past the fairy light encrusted Christmas tree outside of the community centre, turning right up dead duck hill (double quick puff) then right again up a small track towards a cluster of houses. Although we know it is a bit early in the season - we are on the watch out for lambs. We know that they have started to appear.

Round the goose-field to the rec. Moss races the wind as she chases her frizbee, hurtling along the grass at breakneck speed. Following the far edge, we stepped back out of the grounds, across puddle lane and into the sheep filled souterills. Moss threw herself into the winter 'lake' and steamed herself cool again, willing us to let her off her lead, but with hugely pregnant ewes watching warily - her request was refused.

We walk through the upper souterill field making a slight detour past the Highland coo field - checking for calves, they appear soon after Christmas, large fluffy teddy bear beasties hunkering down in the moorland grasses while their mothers watch carefully through thick and wind tousled fringes.

Then down the lane to the nature reserve, still one eye out for lambs and now hares. I can hear the tinkling of the windchimes as we pass chicken accident quarry. Then we leave the lane and turn left up the Ferndene, skipping puddles and dodging flooded paths, past Sagar's Lake, the meadow, the picnic grounds, play park and then back on to the road. A sneaky turn right onto David's walk then home following the main road into the village.

Our walks are are memory maps, with names from village history or from our own stories. Some from when the boys were little and found it difficult to describe where they were, some are anecdotal tales from friends and others associated with events that occurred. All very personal to us yet instantly recognisable to others.

Home now, we managed to avoid the rain but we feel wind battered. So with lunch consumed and mugs of tea being cradled in fingers, we can hear the wind howling around the house and calling down the chimney - but we don't mind. It is all part of the season, the place we live and our lives.