People, places and psychology
Loads and loads of beautiful blackberries are out there on the brambles. 
For every walk I take I must remember to wear thick jeans and stout shoes. For I cannot resist a berry if I see it. Even if it means I have to send a son into the thicket to retrieve it.
I walked Sparks along the canal the other day, starting from m’brother’s yard, and came to this lock. I’d forgotten all about it but we did used to go down here as kids. M’father had a yard at the top of the lane, which is known as Lock Street. (NB, yard = workshop/ industrial premises).
This is the Calder and Hebble Navigation, and the section I’m looking down is known as the Long Cut. I had walked along the offshoot which leads to the canal basin in Savile Town. If you click on the link it leads to a very good site, which has virtual tours along several canals including the Calder and Hebble. I particularly liked the views along the Rochdale Canal.
I couldn’t work out which bridge that was in the background.
So that evening m’husband and I dragged Third-and-Final-Son down there for our evening dog walk. There was another boat just starting to go through the lock, so husband and son offered their services to help with the gates.
At this point we started to think it might be fun to go on a canal boat holiday.
The following week m’husband and I set out on another evening dog walk down by the canal. We set off from Thornhill, m’husband’s boyhood home, and walked past the ruined hall with its medieval moat, farm and duck pond, plus the medieval bowling green on the other side of the lane and over and under several disused railways until we came to Lady Anne Bridge.
It would have seen lots of industrial traffic a century or two ago, but now it will be rare for it to see anything other than the odd walker.
We walked further along the canal and then across the River Calder, as m’husband tried to work out how he and his brother used to get to the marshalling yards to watch the trains. Then back along the canal to the Midland Junction and Lock, and up the hill back to Thornhill. At this point our tentative plans for boating went on to the back burner, as the water was stinky. Really stinky. Stagnant. The stench stayed in my nostrils all the way back up the hill.
Pretty and tranquil is good. Stinky is not.
Lovely big fat blueberries growing on the allotment. They rarely make it back to the kitchen as Sarah and I stand and eat them as we chat by the polytunnel.
Yet again I am fed up, tired and depressed. I’ve had enough of being a mother to teenagers (one of them in particular) and working weird hours. I’ve only been back from holiday two weeks and I’m worn out already. I’m worried about money and I’m not getting any essays written.
Yesterday I had an appointment to discuss said essays with Cathy, my colleague and temporary tutor. Due to total lack of progress I seriously considered cancelling, but then decided that it was always good to see Cathy, it’s a nice drive through countryside to her house and, very important point, my preferred route takes me past the farm shop so I could buy my favourite cake and perk myself up. At which point good things started to happen:
Good Thing #1: The drive takes me through my home village. The sun was shining, the fields have been shorn of hay and corn, and the light was beautiful. At one particular viewpoint my heart swelled so much I nearly burst into tears. Sorry, no pictures of that. As per usual I was running late, and so couldn’t stop.
Good Thing #2: Excellent conversation with Cathy about work, study, teenagers and other stuff.
Good Thing #3: I bought chocolate brownies at the farm shop. Not what I went for, but still a good cake.
Good Thing #4: On my way home m’father flagged me down and gave me a big hug which smelt deliciously horsey. He and Gordon were working Foxy in the field.
She’s only been in harness a week, but she’s going really well. Look at those hocks – stepping under beautifully.
Good Thing #5: I got an ecstatic welcome from Walter, m’father’s wirebrush terrier:
Good Thing #6: Standing and watching the mares and foals.
Look closely – can you see how Belle (or is it Grace?) has got her foot up on Duke’s back:
From now on, this is my motto:
Seek cake, for happiness will surely follow.
Alice gets a final polish in the collecting ring before heading into the Ridings Ring for the yearling and two-year-old class at the Great Yorkshire Show.
I was holding the grooming bucket. I was also very much on my toes, so to speak, as I hadn’t planned to be joining the collecting ring crew and so was wearing a summer skirt and flip flops. Alice and Jasmine (below, with m’father) are good girls, but other people’s yearlings aren’t always so well behaved. Plus, these are horses with big feet, so a slight shock to any one of them can hit the barefooted human hard. My plan was to stand on the sidelines with m’husband, waving supportively, but then m’father spotted me and thrust the bucket upon me.
Note to self: if attending a show where father and ponies are also present, ALWAYS wear boots. No matter what the weather.
Isn’t he gorgeous? Gorgeous and also, according to m’father, getting a little bit bolshy. Entirely understandable, seeing as he’s a colt. However, that lovely white blaze down his face means he is classed as a section B Dales pony (‘allowable’ white marks only include a star or snip), cannot be registered as an approved stallion, and will therefore have to be gelded in September.
He’ll be fine, I know he’ll be fine. The wondrous, beautiful Waterside Duke was a gelding. However I can’t help saying to the Caphouse boy “Enjoy your ballsiness whilst you’ve got it.”
Our holiday this summer was in Bodmin, Cornwall, at a very pleasant cottage named Clerkenwater Vean.
It’s a semi-detached cottage and we were in the right hand side. Very very quiet and peaceful place, down in the valley bottom. Those who know me well are aware of my aversion to flood risks but, even though there was some heavy rain and Clerkenwater Leat runs past the cottage just a few feet to the right of the car, the water stayed securely within the banks so I felt safe.
We would stroll along the lane with Sparky and turn onto a green lane alongside the leat. The air was always cool and moist, and there was moss and ferns everywhere.
It was very soothing watching the water burble over the rocks.
A little way along the track there was a ford, with a footbridge. The light was dim from the overhanging trees and, this being Cornwall, there are no street lights. Not like West Yorkshire where street lights illuminate just about every road where there could possibly be night time traffic, even out in the countryside. Peace, perfect peace.
Just three slight snags with all this peace, quiet and tranquility. One, I came back home, ventured out to the shopping centre, and was absolutely overwhelmed by humanity and advertising. Note to self: leave any shopping for at least a week after returning from a relaxing holiday.
Second point: when holidaying a long way down a quiet country lane draw back your bedroom curtains after you’ve turned the lights out. I forgot on our first night in Cornwall, and when I woke up in the middle of the night I thought I had gone blind. There was no light, shade or anything I could get my bearings by. None whatsoever. After a minute or two I remembered where I was and groped my way across the bed to the window and pulled the curtains back. Even then there wasn’t much light, seeing as we were deep in the valley and surrounded by trees. I never drew my curtains growing up, seeing as my bedroom looked out over fields, but even then there was plenty of night time light as we were on top of a hill and you could usually see the street lights on Whitley Road a mile across the valley.
Third: Even though you are deep in the countryside, pull your curtains after dark if you have the lights on and the window open. Because, if you surrounded by trees, your house will soon be full of Very Big Moths.
Heavy horses. Enough said.
Have I blogged about my crochet habit before? It started when I went to the US two years ago when my most excellent friend Jenny, who is a crocheting whizz as well as a bestselling author, gave me a crochet needle, a ball of yarn and a couple of lessons. I sat through various sessions at the Cherry Con we were attending with my needle working away, and produced a rather lumpy looking scarf.
Back home I spotted a book, The Happy Hooker, and prevailed upon my husband to buy me a copy. What with the wonderfully clear instructions in there, plus the hands on lessons I’d had from Jenny, I was away with the crochet fairies in no time and loving it. I’ve stuck to simple stuff, like scarves and baby blankets, and even discovered a favourite yarn – Sirdar Snuggly baby bamboo DK. Here are some of my creations, as modelled by Firstborn Son:
A chunky, snuggly scarf in hot pink. Very simple to make; I used a very thick hook and a triple crochet stitch.
Another scarf, this one in a Sirdar DK denim yarn. This was the start of my love of the shell stitch.
A not-quite-finished blanket for a friend’s not-yet-born baby, Ziggy, hence all the loose ends. It’s my favourite baby bamboo yarn in yet more shell stitch, and I’ll do a border once I’ve got enough length to it.
Another unfinished project, this time a shawl in a very open shell stitch. I have a sneaking feeling the yarn is too lightweight, but I’m going to keep going anyway. It’s cream shot through with gold threads which the camera didn’t pick up.
Anyway, the reason I’m getting excited about crochet today is because of an email offering me free patterns! Some time ago I signed up for a newsletter from Lion Brand yarn. It pops up in my inbox every week, and is a really relaxing thing to read when I’m stressed out with self-employment. I print off a pattern most weeks too. Now they’ve announced that they’re making 2,700 patterns available for free, and I’m thrilled!
It’s the small things that keep me happy.
Had to love this picture. Great big shire horse, rather small girl. No worries on either side.
I’m not usually a fan of the Cleveland Bay but I really took to this mare.
And this handsome fella was in the collecting ring waiting his turn for the working hunter class.
