Tag: out and about

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meandering ~ discoveries and drizzle

Where do you go when it is damp, cold and continuous drizzle?

On holiday to the north Yorkshire coast of course!

And here we are.

And I am loving it…the winter bleakness, even the dull and damp weather can’t diminish my enthusiasm.

Our 1 bed apartment (see this link if you are interested) looks out over the sea; crashing frothy waves, the occasional surfer (brave), the more than occasional dogs running round and the rolling sea mist.

The journey north was quick last Saturday so we stopped off at Great Ayton (birthplace of Captain Cook) for refreshments and a wander. Too muddy for the little park, we wandered round the churchyard of this Grade 1 listed 12th century church – the Church of All Saints with its cute entrance gate. Though why there has to be an ugly’clean it up’ sign for dog owners attached to the ancient gatepost baffles me – surely no-one would be so disrespectful in a grave yard not to clear up after their pet.

The church is still used today for special services but has no electricity or heating. The tower was removed in 1880 and the whole place is a mix of different periods adding to it and taking away. It is though, a wonderfully peaceful setting and if I were to be burried one day this is the sort of place I would choose, under the great Yew trees with rampant blackberries, ivy and a carpet of snowdrops.

Members of the Cook family are burried here, though we didn’t stop to identify the graves.

I was quite taken by the old vicarage next door which you can see here over the wall standing in front of the newer church of All Saints. It is currently up for sale for the first time in its history and is quite a wonderful house – peeking through the shrubbery for a quick nosy I could easily see myself living there and all for £875,000. Dream on in my case.

Saltburn is not far away from Great Ayton so we arrived before tea, located the flat and dragged our bags up the never ending staircases to the 2nd floor (no lift) but then we need the exercise. We never pack light when going self catering – there are certain things I always take ‘just in case’ after finding some rather unsavoury equipment in previous rented accomodation, one is a sharp knife and our potato peeler (I find other peoples are often blunt),a cheese grater (we have come across some quite rusty ones in the past), a clean jug (I once discovered that it is quite common for some people to use a jug to take a urine sample in for the doctor – so I take my own…jug that is), my steamer (as we never boil our veg and most places don’t run to a steamer), a chopping board (as most will have had meat chopped up on them)….yes I am picky when it comes to the kitchen….oh and a couple of extra towels to supplement the ones provided.

I might add that thankfully – this apartment is well equipped other than the steamer.

Then I take my library of books – this trip I have included two on sketching, as that is one reason for the holiday, the Michael Mosely book Just One Thing to read and make notes, an interesting book called Shiny pennies and grubby pinafores : how we overcame hardship to raise a happy family in the 1950s by Winifred Foley, A Stitch in Time by Una Stubbs (recommended on someone’s blog and which I bought recently for £1.78 as new), last years Country Living Spring edition (still waiting to see this years in the shops), my February folder of magazine cuttings, notes and ideas and my planner.

So I am well stocked up.

On Sunday we abandoned our holiday for a few hours to go across to Yarm to visit my mum for the day. It was the best day so far…calm, sunny and really pleasant – so we bundled her into the wheelchair and pushed her the half mile to the local park and the cafe. It was a good visit and mum enjoyed herself so we were not expecting the barage of calls the following day when our holiday proper began. Sixteen calls throughout the day – I had set my mind to not answering any of them and letting it go to voicemail. It was always the same questions ‘when was the next carer going in?’, ‘why was I not answering straight away?’ Knowing the carers would alert me to any problems I knew she was safe and cared for and honestly…I just needed to enjoy one day of my holiday away from the never ending calls.

I didn’t enjoy the day much in the end it was as bad not answering the calls as it is answering them. I rang her just before the last carer came as I always do and of course she was not pleased that I had not answered her calls and I said I couldn’t possibly be on the end of the phone all the time and sometimes had to have a shower, go shopping or to the doctors etc. Her huffy reply was she wouldn’t be bothering me anymore ever again, which of course then makes the guilt too much to bear and my palpitations worsen and a sleepless night ensued. It was well after the early hours and a long conversation with DH wondering how we can manage this new period in our lives as mum becomes more anxious and needy of us and has to call for reassurance as soon as a carer leaves.

So on Tuesday, true to her word, we had no calls. I rang her at my usual teatime call and told her who the next carer would be and when Vera was on the TV and she was grateful I had rung. I rang her again at 8pm to tell her to put Vera on (thank heavens for Vera on a Tuesday) and all is well again. I expect it will be business as usual again now and she will have forgotten our conversation of me not being on the end of the phone all the time.

Whilst dodging the calls on the Monday, we had a stroll around the centre of Saltburn, checking out possible places for a drink or a meal and having a browse in the craft and gift shops. We returned to the apartment for lunch, a healthy egg salad open sandwich on rye bread and afterwards drove out to Skinningrove, the next coastal village down.

If you have never been and experienced the delights of a gritty, down to earth northern coastal village, then Skinningrove is the place. Fogotten in time, and with no injection of any serious funds from the council budget, I presume, it has a raw charm which I quite like but would not appeal to many who no doubt would prefer the nearby picturesque villages of Staithes and Runswick Bay.

The original cottages, in what would have been a small hamlet, are so lovely. Built with the local sandstone blocks of a soft orangy-brown hue, topped with red pantiles, they once housed families making a living through fishing or agriculture, before the industrialisation took hold.

In the early history of the village there would have been only 13 dwellings, but this was all to change when a seam of iron ore was discovered and in 1848 the opening of nearby Loftus ironstone mine attracted, not only a large workforce, but the building of long rows of tightly packed terraces to house them in and the place expanded within 40 years to 348 dwellings resembling something that looks more at home on the outskirts of Manchester.

This dense mass of red brick terraces (the remaining ones now rendered and painted) with only a back yard and no garden covered the valley bottom and was encased either side by steep hillsides, the mine workings being on the top.

Photo Credit: Facebook

The sheer scale of the model village is absolutely awesome, I couldn’t avoid showing this picture I found from the local Nostalgic North Riding group – my original link through to this photo did not work on all devices so I decided to include the picture (I am never very sure of what photos I can copy from the internet so I hope this one will be kosher). It is said to have had over 80 small shops within this tight knit community. I would imagine that these brand new two or three up and two down houses in red brick would have been thought a luxurious place to live in the day but now suffer from needy maintenance and repair.

These terraces are some that remained after the clearance in the 1980’s

On our stroll around the streets we came across a few notable things.

I thought this hidden away Fish and Chip shop in an old garage round the back of the houses quite enterprising.

And when we came across this sculpture the ‘shanty town’ of sheds littering the hillside on both sides started to make sense.

It is a land of pigeon fanciers. Makeshift huts and sheds, some in a state of near collapse are a continuing reminder of the dedication of the many pigeon fanciers that lived here.

The slopes of the valley would have been their only green space to grow a few vegetables and house their pigeons. It is hard to tell whether some of them are still in use or just abandoned; there seems little evidence of any gardening or winter crops…and not a pigeon in sight.

Eventually, this boom went into decline and progressive closure of the mines led to mass unemployment and in 1958 the last of the mines closed for good. The 1980’s saw extensive demolition at the heart of the village and the long terraces replaced with some very unspectacular more modern social housing, which does nothing to enhance the appeal of this village, but has given each family a small garden. The village has since been awarded the status of a Conservation Area – far too late in my mind. Many of the really old buildings had already been destroyed. Still you can’t help feeling that this village presents a true picture of its history, where the pleasant and picturesque sits tightly together beside the decay and decline and has become an enduring memorial to changing times.

Just as the village itself is in decline so is the hobby of keeping and racing pigeons – it is no longer a young man’s sport anywhere in this country.

It is that kind of idyllic place, nestled into the surrounding hills with a beach on the doorstep and a peaceful atmosphere, where you want it to be beautiful and cared for. A place to treasure. But the reality is different. The community is still tight knit but there seems to be a complete disinterest in improving or acknowledging the decline of their surroundings. When we passed an old chapel, now used as a builders storage unit, I asked the guys working there what the inscription said on the carved stone above the doorway. They were quite amused came out to have a look and said they had never noticed it before! Looking on as an outsider this whole village feels more like a poor urban area and only the rugged beauty of the shore and hills around saves it.

I saw this quote on Facebook ‘History is made up of ordinary days, lived one at a time’.

This sums up this strange place where Skinningrove’s past has shaped the community that’s here today and will continue into the future.

It is Friday now and we still have more discoveries to make this holiday, sketching has been quite minimal so far given the continuous rain, but that doesn’t matter – we will try again another day…maybe even another holiday.

Back soon x

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creating Christmas * enjoying the festive days

Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and the Christmas walk

We finally all arrived at my younger daughter’s new house for our Christmas Eve celebrations. It is her first Christmas in this brand new house and she had decorated it beautifully. Elder daughter with partner, Master Freddie and Baby Chocolate had been delayed by over an hour so we ate in two sittings. It was a simple meal of baked potatoes, beans and cheese – which suited everyone’s pickiness, followed by a homemade (by Little L) chocolate log. I had my slice with icecream.

When tea was over we cleared the table, assembled the children and brought out the iced Christmas cake ready for decorating.

The characters had been patiently waiting in the wings.

Baby Chocolate was eager to join in this year and soon got the hang of coating the bottom of the characters with icing and once a gap was located on the cake, splodge it on, no accuracy required!

Once all the characters were in place, the Christmas sprinkles are added and even more eaten.

The remains in the bowl all tipped on for good measure at the end!

And the cake frill put around the sides – then stand back and admire.

Master Freddie’s homemade snowman took centre stage this year.

Once tea was cleared away we went into the living room to open the Christmas Eve boxes, with Master Freddie’s surprise crackers inside.

They were rather tough to pull open!

As the children were engrossed in the contents, DH crept out of the back door with the Elve’s present to leave on the front doorstep, then rang the bell and crept back in. As soon as the children heard the doorbell there was a rush to open the front door with anticipation and excitement as they saw the present with a big tag saying ‘a gift from Santa’s Elves’.

This year I had chosen a 50 piece jigsaw with a Christmas Scene that they would all be able to do, as our age range is from 2 to 11 now.

The pyjamas were on straight away and all fit well.

With the children suitably occupied and ready for bed we went off to our hotel for the night at Preston Park to relax for an hour and watched the end of Love Actually – it was to be the only TV we would get to see over Christmas.

The next morning we had breakfast and then prepared for get-together no 2 at my sister’s new bungalow and we would meet up with both our daughters, their partners and grandchildren, plus my mother and brother would be joining us…14 of us in all.

The Christmas Day walk

We had an hour to kill before we drove down to my sister’s house near Northallerton, so we decided to stop in Yarm on the way through and have a walk by the river. It was absolutely freezing and we had to wrap up well, but the cold air was very welcome after being in the airless hotel room.

The river Tees dominates and loops around the market town of Yarm. We parked in the empty Sainsbury’s carpark and headed out on the path going towards the old road bridge, known locally as True Lover’s Walk (though at this point we didn’t know that).

We came across many unusual features starting with this 19th Century Mill Wheel.

Decorated Christmas trees lined the route for part of the way.

And just before the railway arches we came across this tiny King Charles Coronation Garden full of woodland creatures.

We couldn’t make out if this was a quirky house or a cafe maybe?

A few steps later and we saw this sculpture and began to realise this was True Lover’s Walk.

There are many houses that line the route, their back gardens face the river and can be accessed from the pathway. Strong black metal gates are placed at the end of every garden to prevent flooding. We noticed quite a few decorative touches by the owners, creating a path of interest for passersby.

This one is obviously a Disney fan….

…and some time has been spent to decorate the rather ugly block concrete steps with heavy metal handrails that prevent the banking slipping into the river when it rises above the banking.

Other people have chosen to protect the wildlife along the route with bug hotels…..

and yet others have made a feature of their gateways.

We followed the path for a while longer as it runs behind the old church. It suddenly comes to an abrupt end with a notice that prevents you using the next part and you are oblidged to turn up this alley that will lead you, eventually, back into town.

A little way along the alley we came across this door in the wall which had a notice above saying ‘True Lover’s Library’. How I would have loved to have seen inside but we dare not try the handle – I suspect maybe it is like the mini libraries you find at the end of people’s drives sometimes.

I just love the bold colour of the door, the wreath looks quite stunning against it.

Emerging from the alleyway we were back beside the railway arches again and these houses are built, not quite underneath, but close enough.

Turning to our left we walked up through the old churchyard of St Mary Magdalene. It is said that the graves of the True Lovers, to which the story originates, are laid in a medieval table tomb inside the church against the west wall. It was only through good old Google later that we discovered more of what we had missed.

We crossed over the road and turned to the right, admiring some of the unusual houses and features along here.

This is one of them below with a stone model of the Town Hall (to the left) and Yarm Castle on top of someone’s gatepost. This castle, or fortress, no longer exists and refers to a site where a castle once stood, now occupied by St. Mary Magdalene’s Church. The current building incorporates parts of earlier structures, including a 12th-century Norman church on the same spot.

Many of the houses have only a tiny outside space between pavement and front door, but I rather liked the simplicity of this one.

As we came upon the end of the row, the house on the very corner displayed this plaque – ‘Hope House is Elizabethan. Probably the oldest dwelling house in Yarm’

I was curious to know if it had always been a 3 storey house and once again Google tells me that Hope House, wasn’t always just three storeys (two floors plus attic); it was originally much larger, but the section containing its western part was demolished in the mid-19th century to make way for the railway viaduct, reducing it to its current two-storey (plus attic) size. 

As we were lingering at the top of this narrow street called High Church Wynd (I was actually waiting to take a photo without the pedestrians coming in view), a lady appeared with a cake tin and asked if we were looking for the Wellness Centre. She said it was only a few yards away on the right and we would be welcome to go inside and sample the free buffet that was laid on there. How lovely!

Apparently, it is a charity who run mind and body wellness courses, with a drop in cafe, for the local town.

Unfortunately, we were at the end of our hour and, after thanking her very much for the kind offer, explained we would be having our Christmas dinner shortly at my sister’s house once we left Yarm.

And this is the Wellness Centre looking very welcome.

I have been down this wynd before and have been enraptured by the beautiful cottages that line either side of the street. All the traditonal cottage names like Lavender and Hazel displayed on decorative plaques.

And even more delightful, the little window displays in each one. Should one stare into the windows? – I wouldn’t want to appear too nosey, but there was no doubt these are done for the pleasure of the passerby as blinds and nets prevent any further intrusion.

This tiny cottage in candy pink is by far my favourite and their simple, but cute, window display of tiny hanging characters did not disappoint.

Across the way we noticed Flood Cottage which is a constant reminder of the great height the flood waters reached in 1881.

This was the tallest house – was it built like this or a storey added at some time in the past? I always have so many questions – that even Google cannot satisfy.

The stonework by the steps caught my eye here at Ruby Cottage….

….and the wooden star filled with pinecones in lieu of a wreath.

At the end of the wynd you have a good view of the Town Hall which has recently been renovated.

Going back along the town’s main street I just had to have one last photo of the window display with moving parts. It was like being a child again being taken to see the department store windows in Sheffield at Christmas (only on a much smaller scale of course).

The Christmas Day dinner

Back at the car with frozen fingers we headed off down the road to my sister’s house and arrived just as they were wheeling mum back from the local pub, where she would have indulged in a large gin and tonic. The idea being to get her relaxed enough to enjoy the day and see if we can get her through it without any complaints.

We knew it was going to be tricky as my sister’s new bungalow, which she only moved into 2 weeks ago, is like a 1960/70’s museum and half the wallpaper is missing as you can see from the bare plaster, and what decoration remains is a strange combination of print and pattern and clashing colours throughout.

And who knew you could have plain painted gloss walls teamed with woodchip covered coving around the ceilings (and then, as an added touch, painted mustard).

Mum must have felt at home because she never uttered a word about her surroundings. We reckoned that the huge stone fireplace and plastic wood panelling in the living room reminded her of the 1960/70’s bungalow that my dad built as the family home. That too had a similar feature fireplace wall, very fashionable back then, and very handy little shelves for accomodating the Christmas knick knacks.

It was a squeeze getting all 14 of us seated for dinner, we always have to have a long run of tressle tables to accomodate everyone and extra chairs are brought in from the local village hall. The tables had to run through the dining room and into a wooden (actually melamime) panelled vestibule type room that sits beside the two kitchens.

Yes, you did read that correctly, the bungalow has two kitchens – the old original one, completely covered in pine boarding, still equiped and in use by the previous owner, and the one added on the back, (the purple one – with purple perspex ceiling…I kid you not) also fully equiped with central style island and also in use, as a bonus!

Once seated there was no room for anyone to pass at the narrowest point so we rigged up a self-service servery using 3 hostess buffet servers spread throughout the two kitchens and devised a one way system, going into one kitchen and coming back out through the other into the dining area, selecting your choice of veg from the heated dishes on the way. So an orderly queue was formed starting with the people sitting furthest away and once you had your plate full you sat down and eventually the rows were filled. It was like a military operation on a roundabout, with a lot of commotion and laughter trying to sort 10 adults and 4 children into place with their meal.

Mum has to sit on the end so we can manouvre her walker and she was joined by myself and my brother so we had to plate our dinners up last. Once we were seated no one could get through the kitchen door behind me. Eventually, we were all settled and eating and a hush fell.

So, well done to my sister for cooking an amazing meal in two strange kitchens with strange appliances and having to try and locate her dishes and utensils in a new layout.

Of course, after the large dinner, the whimps amongst us had to have a snooze. (They will kill me for showing this!)

And the rest of us helped with the washing up. That is a story in itself as the old kitchen has a dodgy strip light, to go with the dodgy boiler and plumbing. Halfway through the light decided to give up and plunged us into darkness. The starter motor at the end of the tube needed taking out and putting back in (this according to my sister would bring it back to life). For this she needed the steps…the steps were in the garage outside, but to open the garage door she needed the scissors to prise it open….well of course she did!

Eventually, she found the scissors to retrieve the steps and the starter was taken out and put back and lo and behold….we had light and we all cheered just like the moment on the National Lampoon film when the lights come on at last. The steps and scissors were returned and all was well.

But only for 5 minutes until it decided to strobe frantically and then cut out altogether again. So the scissors and steps were called for once again, by which time we could not do anything for laughing with tears rolling down our faces. It felt like some kind of two Ronnie’s sketch. All the men had a go at fixing the light and then the electrician (snoozing on the sofa) was woken and brought in.

Did he fix it? Well no!

So that was our eventful Christmas – I hope you made it to the end of this post. We went to mum’s apartment on Boxing Day, cooked a meal, and as it was a lovely sunny day, wheeled her to the park. The cafe was closed, but we managed to get a Costa coffee and hot chocolate from the machine in the garage opposite. She had a good Christmas and a smile on her face most of the time.

We are safely back home now and making plans for the coming year.

I know a lot of bloggers have also had a lovely time, I have been reading along on my phone when time allows.

No doubt I will be back very soon to share the new year plans. x

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creating Christmas * day 10

The Christmas visit

Elizabeth Gaskell’s House

The Christmas season would not be complete without a visit to one of the many places that put on a Christmas event. I prefer the lesser known places, the ones that are not overcrowded and Elizabeth Gaskell’s house fit the bill completely.

I was as excited about this day as a child might be let loose in a toyshop. Mrs Gaskell’s house had been on my ‘go to see list’ for so long and it was definitely worth the wait to go at Christmas….. and it was everything I had hoped for and more.

It is only over the hill from us towards Manchester city centre, not an easy route ploughing through the unknown areas of the suburbs, but we made good time and as our booking was for 11.40 am we missed the worst of the morning rush. To our astonishment we could park on the street right outside the house for 3 hours free and thereby avoiding the usual steep parking charges in Manchester.

The house was beautifully decorated and in addition there were readings from Little Women (Elizabeth Gaskell had close connections with the Louisa May Alcott) and musical entertainment by the Gaskell Singers choir…who were heavenly to listen to.

There is too much for me to write about and too many photos to edit in this post today but I will do a special post about the visit soon….they would welcome the publicity, I am told, and need more visitors to keep them going especially in January….but the sun is shining and my other Christmas tasks are calling me to go and attend to them….. so I will leave you at this point.

I will be posting creating Christmas * day 11 at some time later today.

Meanwhile thank you for all your lovely comments recently, you always have interesting things to say and I love to hear about your Christmas preparations, though I fear mine are well behind most of you.

And welcome new subscribers – I hope you enjoy reading.

If you would like to leave a comment click here.

Back soon X

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dear diary ~ a moment….ous week

Not only was it Remembrance Day yesterday but it has been a week filled with both sad and happy moments.

Last Tuesday my friend K could not come shopping with us as she was expecting a visit from her daughter. I was a bit disappointed as we look forward to her company but we agreed to catch up later in the week for a chat. We almost overstayed our welcome in Sainsbury’s carpark as you only get two hours and I was having a good browse in all the various sections including the clothes and looking out for any Nectar bargains. It was mid afternoon when we got back home and we had just eaten our lunch and put all the shopping away when a little after 4pm we had a phone call from K’s daughter to say she had been rushed into hospital. K was diagnosed with a terminal illness in October of last year and we all knew her time was limited, but somehow she managed to keep going and always keep smiling.

We went up to the hospital to see her straight away and then visited a couple of times through the week but she was mostly asleep or very drowsy, then on the Thursday teatime when we bobbed in to see her after my audiology appointment, she was raised up in her bed enjoying a cup of tea. We had a lovely little chat for a short time and then came away so as not to tire her out. I didn’t know then but this would be the last time we would have together… and I will cherish those moments. On the Friday morning K became unresponsive and eventually slipped away peacefully on Monday.

Although we had an age gap of almost 20 years, K was a dear and special friend who I met almost by accident when I gave a lift one freezing winter’s morning many years ago to her neighbour Bernard. It is a story I have told before on my blog. Bernard became my Tuesday and Thursday morning companion as I drove into work until he became ill and was taken into hospital. That evening I had a call from K his neighbour saying Bernard was asking that I should go and visit him and had passed my phone number to her. We alternated our visits as his family lived away and each evening K and I would speak on the phone to report on progress. After 2 weeks Bernard passed away but K and I continued to phone each other and eventually met at Bernard’s funeral. Our relationship continued and blossomed and we found we liked the same things especially the area of Scotland where our cottage was located. K and her partner often came on holiday to the area around Stranraer and we would meet up if we were at the cottage at the same time.

When I see the poppies now I will always remember our last moments together but I know our Tuesday shopping day will never feel quite the same without the cup of tea and a chat we had afterwards when we took her back home.

The weekend was another busy one for us.

On the Saturday we were determined to fit something in for ourselves and we chose the Sheffield Print Fair at the Millenium Gallery. As I was born in Sheffield near the Wednesday ground I love to go back and now the city centre is vibrant once again after the loss of Debenhams and John Lewis and a certain amount of regeneration and rebuilding has been occurring over the last few years. The planners I think are doing a good job, preserving some of the old historic buildings amongst the new and providing plenty of lush planting and seating around to soften the harshness of these concrete cities.

The print fair was packed and we thoroughly enjoyed browsing the stalls of some very talented young (and older) print designers. There was every kind of printing method on show but I am always drawn to the linocuts and silk screen prints rather than the polished digital artwork.

Afterwards, we had a mooch around the centre. It has been a while since we were last there and a lot of the demolition sites are now showing off the new and restored buildings. It is something I like about Sheffield that they try to keep and cherish old buildings and they sit side by side with the new.

This block housed an old fashioned jeweller in the corner shop; in the upstairs windows you could see them at work with the machinery on old wooden benches. The end of the run was obviously past restoration but they have added a new section to compliment the terrace.

They also flaunt madly the fact that the city grew on steel manufacturing and many of the structures around the centre are made of it. Because of the steel industry Sheffield was hit hard in the blitz and most of the town centre was demolished by bombs and needed a complete rebuild. Nearly everyone had a relative affected by the blitz in one way or another. My grandma had her windows blown out a few times, but was luckier than the people in the next street along whose house had a direct hit.

It is a leafy city as well – had I had the time I would have been picking up some of these leaves to press.

We walked down the Moor to Atkinsons, the family run department store, where this plaque is permanently displayed in the entrance. They are doing well to survive in this retail climate and it is such a comforting department store as it hardly ever changes, just a little updating every so often; enough to keep up with the trends but not huge changes and revamps like John Lewis.

On Sunday it was Sweetie’s 7th birthday – oh the joy and excitement of being seven. We travelled up to north Yorkshire to help at her pottery painting party that she had with a few friends and afterwards she had a second family party at her home and a mammoth present opening session.

This meant two cakes, though at the friends party we just gave out a cupcake each (far less mess than cake cutting).

She struggled at times to read some of the messages in her friends cards!

….but was overjoyed at the presents….

….and she declared the day her best birthday so far.

Meanwhile, this week I was set the task (I don’t even remember volunteering for this) of organising a celebration for my mum when she turns 100 in January. It will be a small group of us as she has outlived many of the family members. We have decided on a private dining space in a local restaurant and will probably opt for the Sunday lunch. Their menu is quite extensive and they even have fish and chips (which I think mum might like) and luckily for us a nut roast. I think there will be something for everyone’s tastes. I just hope the weather is not against us and that no-one falls ill with colds or Covid, especially not my mum! It would be so annoying to wait a hundred years for this special day and then not be able to celebrate it.

I am making sure our vitamin C quota is kept high in the hope the dreaded lurgy in one form or another passes us by and it is a delight to go into my pantry at the moment, the colours are a wonderful sight.

I have bought all the ingredients now for my usual favourite ‘organic’ Christmas cake recipe and managed to get a smaller pack of white icing from Hobbycraft as I only ever cover the top. I am all set to make it the Sunday after next if I remember to soak the fruit on the Friday.

I have also sorted the Christmas Eve Santa pyjamas for the 4 grandchildren, red tartan for the girls and white for the boys, their mum’s choice. I nearly ended up with all the colours in all the sizes and stripped Sainsbury’s bare. Now the respective mum’s have decided on the right sizes I can return the surplus and Sainsbury’s can re-stock!

I also have my eye on these.

I don’t think I have anymore tales to tell of the last week. This week I need to finish the mountain of ironing that has accumulated and sketch out some ideas for the linocutting workshop DH and I are booked onto on the 19th November, only a week away.

After finishing my last 3 tasks I didn’t have chance last week with the hospital visits to do more but I have more or less decided on the next three.

  • Plant the bulbs and small mixed shrub selection I bought a while ago in pots or the garden.
  • Drop off the items we have for the auction at the Crisis charity coffee morning at church.
  • Trim the berberis

Have a great week and thank you for all your comments…so sorry I never got to answer some of them – normal service might resume soon.