thank you

Thank you - your kind words, here and by email, both strengthened me and dissolved me to tears - I have had so many hugs from dog walkers who I don't know by name - only by the fellow-dog-walker nod - when they ask 'where's your dog?'. 

Being at work was hard - staff and volunteers seemed as stunned as I, visitors to the park and walled garden were too.  I still catch myself about to call her when I go out into the garden or get ready for work. 

She was a funny, silly, hair shedding, eye-rolling, waggy tailed, muddy footed gallumph who enriched my life and she will be forever missed. So, thank you - so so much for your thoughts xx❤️‍🩹

who you calling a muddy footed gallumph?

no words

 

Not an easy post today.

Moss - who we rescued, who rescued us, who made us laugh, made us walk, made our house and home into a furry pack - now makes me cry.

RIP my dear sweet buddy. 

Van-ventures of the long weekend kind

 A combination of weather, work and every day commitments have firmly kept us off the hills for anything more than day trips or walking from home. Last week we suddenly realised that we had a couple of days free (during the bank holiday weekend) and a promise of half decent weather by those meteorological folk who can enthusiastically wax lyrically about atrocious weather fronts - they seem to love their jobs...

Any hoo - early Saturday morning we hastily packed the van with the bare essentials, food - tick, bedding - tick, warm stuff - tick, camera - tick, Moss' paraphernalia - tick tick tick. Then we headed to a new to us place - Alston in Cumbria and promptly fell in love with it.

Our first night was at the highest point of the area at a place frequented by motorcycles, bikers and vanlifers. At 1903ft it has the most gloriously airy and light feel to it, however when the weather is wild - it would not be a place I'd want to stay. 

Originally a large carpark for a popular café (now long gone with several failed attempts at replacing it) the views are sublime. And, if a constant and steady stream of visiting bikes is not your thing, by early evening, they'd all gone. And it was quiet - just us and three other vans and miles and miles and miles of hills, views and sky.

When we first arrived, we took Moss for a pootle over the fells, although grouse shooting moors as long as you kept your dog on a lead and stayed on the paths and tracks you can walk. We first checked out the rather stately cairn then trekked up to the trig point where once again the views took our breath away.

The next morning we went down into the village of Alston for a wander around and discovered to our delight that their steam train was up and running and put on a puffing good show for us. 

Alston is full of old quirky buildings, cobbled streets and charm, sadly we suspect that a sizable chunk of the housing were either second homes or holiday lets like so many of these 'desirable' holiday locations tend to have.

Even the gloriously pompous old bank (a Martins Bank) appeared to be apartments - hopefully for residents rather than holidaying folk - locals need affordable housing too.

I won't overwhelm you with any more photos, as I did take .. one or two .. LOADS ..! 

Right, I better stop waffling, I have work to get on with, have been waiting for a break in the weather before I can start and by the looks of things - it is now or never!

Speak soon x

Happy

 March 1st is (meteorologically speaking) the first day of spring and, I must admit, as I shuffled about early doors this morning to let the dog out, despite the chill in the air, I think I could smell spring. Please let the next dose of winter be a brief one....

Walking this afternoon was gentle and a repeat of one we have done over the years - 'the dog loop'. In my last post I'd mentioned that although we'd enjoyed some cracking walks, I felt that it would just be a 'rinse and repeat' story and would be boring. But then I read somewhere that not every walk has to be an adventure or have jeopardy or lashings of humour to make it worth sharing. Sometimes the benign repetition of the act of walking in itself brings a gentle satisfaction and makes me notice the 'less noticed'.

This 'dog loop' has three versions, the concise gallop that fills the brief and fits in with the weather, then the slightly longer one, which involves stiles and gates and fields with space to run and chase (if you are a dog) and views to drink in. Finally the longer version which mean an afternoon has to be set aside and a tea filled flask taken along (with the obligatory accompanying biscuits of course).

Years of walking these 'loops' had made them 'invisible' and the sometimes felt almost like a chore. We dragged small boys, then slightly taller boys then all grown up with girlfriends boys along these paths. With repetition came boredom. So our walks took on new distant routes - further away and 'more exciting'.

Then covid happened and the 'exercise from home for no more than one hour and keep away from everyone' rule. These once little local routes became oh so precious and we walked them as often as we could. We re-learnt their quirks and fell in love with them again...and again...and again. 

Moss - along with probably half the village dogs and others who'd travelled (although not supposed to) re-found new places to sniff and scent and pass on 'peemails' to each other. Suddenly the stone walls had shapes and colours we'd previously just walked passed and just not noticed. Trees were appreciated, hedges and hedgerow flowers discussed, the sky and clouds admired. Our relief at being outside felt priceless.

Any hoo, walking the route this afternoon reminded me of how lucky we were/are that we can 'fall out of our backdoor' and be on a footpath in less that five minutes and in the landscape with a few steps more. 

And it made me happy. 

So, no - nothing dramatic happened, no funny stories, no being chased by cows or menaced by horses. No tea break, no biscuits and no rain.... just simple one foot in front of the other, chilly air and warm hats, a dilly dog and good company - what more could I ask for?

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 💚

This must be how birds feel

Saturday was crisp and frosty with with a heart achingly blue sky. We packed a lunch, wrapped ourselves and the dog up and we headed for the hills.

I am always interested in what and why folk feel the need to leave some sort of 'mark' of their passing.
Sometimes it is a pre-painted rock - the type that seemed to flourish during the pandemic and now is almost endemic around the country. Stickers are increasingly common on road signs or gates. I was amused by the upside down sugar skull until I took a closer look and saw it was actually the right way up! 

My favourite I have to admit is this one .... SHEEEP! I wondered if the farmer who painted this was either distracted half way through and when he returned just continued without realising - or, if he wrote it as if he was yelling at the drivers who bomb through this open bit of moorland road with out even heeding the grazing ewes and their lambs. Who knows....

Moss of course threw herself into her walk - collecting sticks along the way regularly  'upgrading' until the stick was too large to 'dog-handle' along the narrow woodland path. She 'dog-fully' and doggedly dragged it some distance before discarding it for a very much smaller piece.

Alongside the path, I spotted at eye height, the sweetest and most exquisite nest made entirely of moss with a snowy centre. It seemed so exposed and vulnerable, but I suspect when the hawthorn is in full leaf, the nest would be magically invisible and it's contents safe.

There was frost encrusted winter debris all through the woodland which crunched and crackled beneath our feet.

On the far edge of the woods, where the trees thinned and the landscape felt ancient, we stopped for a mug of tea and watched brick red beef heifers graze and browse amongst the birch and hawthorn. They gradually surrounded us, occasionally lifting their huge shaggy heads to balefully glare however they never encroached or threatened us and we in return sat quietly and respectfully.

On the other side of the thin trees we arrived on the rolling ridges of the Dales. The thin blue icy sky felt high and brittle and oh so beautiful. It surrounded us, covered us and elated us.

This must be how birds feel when they fly.

We followed the higher path to the edge of the sunlight then dropped back into the valley, we had to return to the van before the sun slipped behind the hills taking with it the thin warmth we were holding on to.

Once back, we cracked on the kettle and curled cold hands around steaming mugs, ate digestive biscuits and watched the last of the light fade. These days fill my soul and clear my head.

#ichigoichie