The Day We Went To Teignmouth

Friday was beautiful. Sunshine and blue skies.
"I know it is a drive" I said, "but let us go to Teignmouth. The countryside is like a soggy sponge, I am fed up of muddy, slippery pathways and wading through puddles.  At Teignmouth we can walk for miles..."
Surprisingly, my husband agreed, so off we went.
Despite the satnav, we managed to take a couple of wrong turnings, and ended up travelling along some very narrow green lanes, accidentally avoiding the congestion of Newton Abbot altogether!

Teignmouth was glorious in the sun, but our favourite cafe had closed down :(  Apparently, there was a fire back in July. and work is currently underway to make the building usable again. It would appear that the presence of asbestos complicated things....

Having arrived, we decided to use the facilities. Unfortunately, the main toilets in Teignmouth were under the aforementioned cafe, and also suffered damage in the fire. Well, I had wanted a walk, and we got a walk - the length of the promenade and back!  We then had lunch on the beach.  It was only about 15 degrees, but the beach was sheltered and had full sun, so we stayed there a couple of hours.  I wrote the important postcards, and we posted them in a small Victorian postbox. I do hope the 21st century postmen finds them!

We wandered around the town and found a coffee shop before heading off through the maze of narrow streets to the Back Beach.

 
A couple walked by carrying a basket, from which there came a running commentary of bemused squawks.
"Wow" said the KHT, "a parrot in a cage.... maybe it is unwell and going to the vets..."
"Oh, you mean as sick as a parrot?" I replied.

We paused to watch the ever-changing colours of the sunset over the Teign estuary and distant moors - one of my favourite places to watch the sunset.  A two bedroomed house with this view recently was on sale for £500k.  Fortunately, I do not have £500k, so I could not be tempted. Alternatively, you can sit on the beach and enjoy this view for free, which we did!

Not Abide With Me

On Monday evening we were invited to join the ringers at Brixham at their practice on Thursday.  A bellringer cannot resist an invitation like that, especially if it is at a church they have not rung at before! It is also a church that I have wanted to ring at for many years.

Harbour and the Church we didn't ring at...

I was really confused about Brixham bells, as I thought there had been complaints to get them silenced. Apparently, that is the church down by the harbour at Lower Brixham, where Henry Francis Lyte, famous for writing 'Abide With Me', served as Curate.  Here a carillon plays out hymn tunes to a sometimes unappreciative audience.   The church we visited is tucked away out of sight at Upper Brixham, the bottleneck at the top of the hill, rather than a bottleneck down by the water.

Visiting Brixham gave us a good excuse to explore the harbour, walk along the breakwater and enjoy a proper fish supper. I had to settle for hake, as I wasn't willing to pay £22 for a Dover sole...
We also got to see a rather cute seal in the harbour, which I mistook for a dog randomly swimming in the harbour!

Cute dog, I mean seal...

Wandering around the harbour after dark presented excellent photo opportunities.The boat with lights is a replica of The Golden Hind.  Unfortunately, we were too late to go aboard this time. The KHT would really have enjoyed that! Another excuse to visit again!

The bellringers appreciated the extra ringers and rang all 10 bells for the first time in about a year. Brixham people, you need to learn to ring these splendid bells!

Barke and the Cow Conspiracy

After all the mist and rain of the last few days, we were delighted to awake to sunshine :)
"Let's go to the moors!" declared the KHT.
We compromised with visiting Parke - an estate owned by the National Trust, just outside Bovey Tracey, on the edge of Dartmoor.









Here we enjoyed a beautiful woodland walk beside a river, with lots of safe paddling places.





















The KHT tried to rescue some leaves from the river. It was a task that would be impossible to complete!









Rivers and woods are lovely places to explore and understandably popular with dog walkers. I just wish some of the dogs didn't devote so much energy to barking! You could hear them the other side of the valley!  I did wonder if they should rename Parke, Barke, as a tribute to these noisy canines and their ineffectual owners, who seemed oblivious :(

We arrived at the cafe around 1:30pm, by which time the mad lunchtime rush had subsided and we had a choice of tables.  The food had been recommended, so we decided to save our sandwiches until teatime and let someone else do the cooking. It was a good move, the food was delicious!

Lovely as Parke was, the KHT did not regard it as 'the moors' proper, so we headed off towards some more familiar haunts that would satisfy the KHT.  The sun was shining and, in sharp contrast to previous few days, it was warm!   To celebrate the sunshine we went to Widecombe-in-the-moor, in search of ice-cream. We were not disappointed!



Our journey was slightly delayed by a cow, that decided the only place to be was the middle of the road. Cars would just have to drive around her! She reminded me of Ermintrude off 'The Magic Roundabout' - in temperament, rather than colouring, I hasten to add! My husband tried driving up close, in the hope she would move, but no, she wasn't moving. So he had to reverse and drive around her....

After our ice creams, the KHT was our sat nav and took us north out of the village towards. and through Natsworthy, on a road we had never driven along before.  

We were heading towards Hound Tor, when suddenly, there ahead of us, was more cows! Had word spread that we were on the moor? Was there a 'cowspiracy'?



We passed a few, then we had to stop as there were more cows ahead.  The cows we had already passed, ambled by on the inside... How rude!





Cheeky moos! Then there were more cows! It took us quite a while to slowly weave our way through, as they would suddenly stop and start grazing if some vegetation took their fancy!







Finally, we were able to pass them all, and carried on our way

Buying a waterproof coat did the trick with the weather! Pity I didn't buy it before we came away....

Bridge Shot

Batteries and Charity Shops - it's the way we roll!

If you thought Brian was bad, you should have seen Sunday.
If you thought Sunday was bad, you should have seen Monday.
If you thought Monday was bad, Tuesday really extracted the Michael.
I can safely say we have had our worst October half term holiday ever, weather-wise.
But, we are warm.
We are safe.
We have chocolate.
We are content.
We are very blessed, compared to many in this unjust world.

On Monday evening I climbed into the car on Paignton sea front with our sea glass collection safely stowed away in my coat pocket, when something very strange came to pass. Before I even realised that it had happened, I was fully reclined.  Unfortunately, I cannot blame my husband, as he was not even in the car at the time.
"Oi!" said I to the KHT, "What has happened to my seat?"
The KHT had no idea how this had happened. Then the penny dropped.  When I closed the car door I had unknowingly trapped the sea glass, which had by some miracle activated on the 'recline seat' button in a most efficient manner. Strange, but true.

Tuesday morning began with disappointment - disappointment for the man who thought he was about to sell a £56k camper van, but instead sold a caravan battery, for a fraction, of a fraction, of the cost.  To cheer him up we let him throw our old battery in the skip, for which his company will make the pricely sum of £3.50. Well, it saved us lugging it home and taking it to the tip. So everyone was happy, except the man who didn't sell a £56k campervan on a wet and miserable Tuesday morning in October...

The next excitement was a picnic in the car at Wembury watching the sea.  Why? The car park is free to National Trust members, so it was as good a place as any.  Next, the KHT wanted to go shopping.  Unfortunately, this isn't computer or music shopping, or browsing round garden centres, which my husband likes.  No, the sort of shopping my daughter prefers is charity shops. In particular browsing through children's books and dvd's. It is exactly the sort of shopping my husband hates AND it was raining.  By now I was thoroughly fed up with the waterproof-with-the-broken-zip, and bought a new one. That should sort the weather!

Random seagull in a car park in Totness

The Magic of Fairy Cove

We slept to the steady rhythm of Devon rain. We awoke to more of the same.  At breakfast time the view we admired yesterday, was today obscured by cloud. We enjoyed the comfort of rain-induced seclusion, and came to the conclusion that there was no point in hurrying anywhere, anytime soon.

After morning coffee we stirred ourselves and decided to visit the Devon Guild of Craftsmen in Bovey Tracey. The exhibitions are always interesting, change regularly and the cafe does nice food. It is also relatively quiet and unlike the nearby House of Marbles, won't be rolling with holiday makers seeking santuary form the rain. As we headed along the A38, the cloud started to lift, sun broke through and we even saw a rainbow!

The current exhibition Dead on Arrival - where Taxidermy met mixed media,  made we wonder exactly what animals were supposed to look like, as they convincingly created creatures from different parts of other creatures, that were shocking in their plausibility.   Other artwork was created from parts of animals. Vegetarians and other sensitive souls, do not examine the background of this photograph too closely...


In the sun it was surprisingly warm, so after lunch we decided to head off to the coast, where we would be free to wander some distance without drowning in mud.  However, we arrived to find that cloud had descended on Paignton. Across the bay Torquay sniggered in sunshine, but not for long.  The KHT looked on in bemused outrage, as two girls raced around the beach and into the water in shorts. She was definitely not impressed that she was wearing a coat. It was about 13 degrees and drizzling with a biting wind, but she was not forgiving me for this imbalance of dress. The KHT rarely rushes around, I hasten to add.

By the time the parking was paid for. The prospect of exploring the tacky delights of the pier was sufficient to help sooth the blow to her pride. Afterwards, we wandered along the beach. Exploring the tide is always theraputic.


As we got nearer the harbour, we noticed small stones appear on the sand. Where there are stones, there is often sea glass, especially on an urban beach. Sure enough we were soon finding some. A couple walked past in opposite direction, similarly engaged.
"I am so glad to see you doing this as well" said the husband to me, "It means that we are not the only one's daft enough!"
"Well it makes a walk more intersting," I said
"Yes," he repled, "But we have been collecting glass EVERY day!"
The novelty of this exercise was clearly wearing off, so I didn't ask what he planned to do with the glass....


We paused on the harbour wall to admire the antics of an egret. It was fascinating to watch his neck charge shape, as he poised to pounce, and then processed his catch...

I had intended to walk over Roundham Head to Goodrington, but it was after 4pm, so we diverted to Fairy Cove, which being sheltered from the prevailing wind, felt much much warmer than the main beach. Here was glass aplenty. My husband, who usually struggles to find any glass, was finding loads of clear glass. I was finding predominantly green, and the KHT was finding brown, amber and the rare and treasured deep blue glass... My husband was having such a great time he didn't want to stop glass hunting.  Normally he is lucky to spot any, but today the conditions were right for him and he probably found the most glass.  I must admit, I did stop for a while to take photos...
Can you see a face on the edge of the cliff?


We prolonged our day by eating in a restaurant overlooking the sea, which meant we could admire Paignton's illuminations before calling it a day.

Wigwams and Muddy Puddles

Sunday began with a cup of coffee in bed.
"What time is it?" I ask
"After 9."
"I guess we won't be going to morning service at Modbury, then!" I ponder. "We could go to wotsisname..."
"Where? enquired my husband.
"I can't remember the name of it. You know, the place with the rock path. It is the other side of Avonwick, but it is not far if you go by main road. I just cannot remember the name of the village!"

My husband is getting the hang of this caravanning lark. He remembered to remove the smoke detector before he put his bread in the toaster. It will cope with one slice, but anymore and the whole campsite knows what hour we breakfast!

We get in the car, agreed as to our destination, but none the wiser as to its name.
"Maybe it is saved in the satnav." says my husband, optimistically. I am both doubtful and hopeful. Doubtful that we would have been that organised, and hopeful, because the route the satnav will WANT to take, is along very narrow windy lanes that are at times little more than farm tracks.  It may be a more direct route, but if most of the journey is sub 20mph, hardly time-saving. I have come to the conclusion that in Devon sat navs require 'sane' and insane' options, so that you can make informed choices about the routes you take.

The Devon countryside looked very beautiful. We pass through Avonwick, over the humped back bridge, over presumably part of the River Avon.  We know we take the next turning on the right, we read the signpost
"Diptford!"
Now we know where we are going!

The congregation today is small in number, much less than the full church we experienced on Easter Day. They are mainly elderly with a few children. One child of between 2 - 3 years of age, kept us entertained with a one child puppet show from behind the pew back, starring a dog, a cow and tractor.  For some reason he was fascinated by our family, and seemed to think that we needed entertaining.  The service was Holy Communion, but the highlight was definitely the sermon, based on Matthew 15:15-22, which the Vicar thoughtfully had printed copies for us and got us thinking about how the Pharisees and Herodians were working together and trying to trap Jesus, and failed. Lots to ponder on. You can take the woman out of Service of the Word, but you can't take the Service of the Word out of the woman.

After the service I admired the prayer wigwam left over from Messy Church - now how can I get that into a Service of the Word...




In the afternoon we headed over to Wembury, and found some sea glass.

We then went along a very, very, very muddy coast path,
which my daughter loved, and my husband didn't...


...and ended up exploring the next beach round, which was sand and gravel with large very smooth rocks, which were easy to walk over. On occasions when we were out of the wind, it was surprisingly pleasant.





The skies turned incredibly dark,
so we thought we better head back.



However, we didn't encounter any rain until we were almost back at the campsite, where it was much wetter.

I wonder where we will be tomorrow, and what the weather will be?

The Many Faces of Brian

Driving down the highway on Saturday morning all was well with the world. The sun was shining and the autumn foliage on the trees looked awesome against a grey sky. There was a bit of a breeze. It all looked very calm & beautiful.The roads were surprisingly quiet, a bit of a wait at some traffic lights, but otherwise, everything was as you would expect.

 The M5 appeared busy, but not exceptionally so. However, after only about a mile, the traffic slowed to a halt.












It seemed a van broke down and needed to be towed to a refuge...

Once that little problem was sorted we were back underway.



During the journey we were treated to some very dramatic skies and heavy cloudbursts.



Sudden outbreaks of rain















Bedazzling sunshine!
















Gentle sunshine













Just some of the many faces of Brian we caught a glimpse of on our journey.

We encountered more traffic jams, and breakdowns, though the two were not always connected, as where possible cars had been moved onto the verge.

On the way it occurred to us that the KHT had rather less baggage than usual
"Did you bring your dressing gown?"
Silence
"I bet you wellies and slippers are at home as well..."
More silence.

We arrived at the campsite at 3pm. Fortunately, as we have a seasonal pitch, we could make use of the facilities before we checked in!

As we were parking up, Barrys mobile rang.  It was one of the wardens, would we like to move on to a seasonal pitch?
"Nah, we can't be bothered!" 
Then we looked at the absolutely saturated ground.  Our feet were getting wet just standing still as water appeared on the surface every time you took a step!
"Yes, we would!" 
So we did!  Unfortunately we need a new battery, so we had to man handle the van a bit.  We went too far back trying to straighten up the van and it took both of us pushing the van to get it to move forwards.  As we were pushing into a head wind it was never going to go too far!  This was the pitch we moved off....

We headed off to Wembury to admire the tide.





The surfers were out in action.  High tide was not for another 90 minutes or so, but with an onshore wind Storm Brian ensured that already much of the beach was covered.  The rain was like icy needles, and I soon regretted the broken zip on my coat. However, the sound and fury were amazing!




 My glasses were prtetty unimpressed with the spray!














We headed off up some very narrow lanes to stock up on supplies and replenish part of the KHT's wardrobe. Again!


Can you spot a theme here?












The blessings of Brian - pink sparkly slippers AND wellies.  As for the dressing gown, she can use her coat.  One dressing gown is surely enough for most people!

Garden Shuffle

Tuesday's highlight was re-enacting the first part of the story of Jonah, complete with much rocking and swaying, as we acted out the storm with Key Stage 2 at the after school club.  Wednesday morning's excitement was King Saul 'resting' in the cave, while David chops of the corner of his robe. One of our team members did a most excellent job of attaching the corner of a 'cloak', which David had to remove by pulling a thread attached to tacking stitches.  David looked pretty impressed, as the stitches unraveled, leaving him holding the corner of the cloak, but this Disney Generation didn't bat an eyelid.  An arc of glittery stars with accompanying sound effects may have got their attention. A piece of orange cloth just didn't cut the mustard.

Wednesday afternoon was more down to earth - garden earth to be precise. After the dizzy temperatures at the beginning of the week, the mercury has dropped to a more autumnal 10 degrees centigrade, with a seasoning of gentle drizzle. The window of plant moving opportunities is reducing, as the ground will be getting steadily colder.

A couple of years down the line we can see some planting has not quite worked out as we anticipated. The rhododendron, which was looking rather miserable in a large planter, has already been liberated.  Today was Plant Shuffle day 2.

Step one - a grass which doesn't like the dryness under the trees, was dug up and planted where the lavenders were...

Meanwhile, the lavenders are still in their tub, but currently residing on the path while we try and decide what to do with them.






Step 2
The pheasant berry was dug up, as it was far too dominant for the narrow side border and completely overshadowed one of the white japanese anemones - no bad thing some may say ;)

We did doubt if we would manage to successfully extract the pheasant berry, as it was difficult to get sufficient leverage, without the threat of destroying either the path, or the fence, or both...

Step 3
The pheasant berry was replanted at the bottom of the garden, close to where the grass was, but a bit further back... It does look better in a bigger border. The obelisk was rather disturbed by all this digging and is currently undergoing therapy....



Step 4
Meanwhile, the pink japanese anenome adjacent to the garage door, had grown far too big and stopped us using the stepping stones across the flower bed. This has been given a free transfer to where the pheasant berry was....  It has been joined by a couple of young verbenas.  They are young and full of enthusiasm, thinking they can make a difference - they will soon learn....



The bed by the garage looks a lot better now, and you can actually see the planters and contents. Before they were just hidden behind a screen of japanese anemones!

At least two sections of japanese anemone remain and we haven't decided exactly what to do with them, yet! Will they go, or will they stay?

One nice discovery was that the cyclamen planted in the bottom border have naturalised.  White ones have been planted there over the last two years. We will wait to see what colours will appear!

The successful germination of a packet of seeds earlier in the year means that there are sixty odd white foxgloves to plant along with some dwarf lavenders. The bulbs dislodged by the upheaval to the centre bed, also await our ministrations, along with a few more verbenas and the odd grass. In garden tasks always seem to take longer than we anticipate. A good looking garden doesn't happen by magic, it is the result of squelching around on soggy days, and the liberal use of compost.

Meanwhile, the squirrel watched on from his vantage point in the oak trees, eagerly awaiting our retreat so he can get on with the important business of foraging.

Gosh, we must have reached the sixth day by now. A pity they weren't consecutive... ;)

Floral Transformation

Saturday's highlight was definitely a couple of shipmates rolling in on the tide, fresh from nautical adventures exploring the glories of the canals around Brum.  We had not seen M since her wedding 18 months ago, and it was our first real chance to chat to her other half, as we had only met him previously at the wedding!  This may seem strange, until you consider that M is a virtual friend, and our interaction has been mainly online, but with regular meetings over the years. One of the advantage of virtual friendships is that you waste less time on the superficial stuff.  You often know more about the joys and sorrows of online buddies, as things that can be impossible to verbalise, can be shared with just the pressing of a few keys.

Times change.  The golden era of internet chatrooms came and went. The opportunity for constructing a network of friendships within common interest groups, often from different parts of the country or globe, has largely gone.  Ironically to be replaced by superficial friendships from within our existing social networks.  Opportunities for new friendships flounder, as we play safe and interact with those we know and those we don't really know and probably never really will.  Evenings when I sat at my keyboard laughing until the tears ran down my face, or as I watched as someone haltingly typed out their fears and anguish and offered prayers, have been replaced by watching catch up TV and often futile attempts to reach my target score on Words With Friends.

The online world was my life raft at a time in my life when I was quite isolated. Now my time is spent in different ways, and much more of it is spent in face to face interaction.  The online world helped me to be where I am now.  When I went for selection for Reader training, I had to give a five-minute talk, and I referred to the online Christian community where I had learnt so much. My opening sentence made them all sit up.
"You may think I am a Rose, but actually I am a Daffodil..."
Now that is what I call Flower Power ;)

Here endeth the fifth day.

Deadlines and Distractions

I had some time this afternoon to get some work done.
"Are you to work upstairs?" asked my husband with surprise, as I picked up my computer and headed towards the door.
"I think it might be wise..." I replied and head off upstairs to work.

I looked out of the window of the spare room, noticed the sunshine and the breeze, and remembered that I had decided to wash the bedclothes today.
I stripped the bed, loaded the machine.
"Do you think we should switch from the 4 tog duvet? It is a good time to change the duvet as I am doing the bedding"
It is agreed that we will graduate from the summer duvet.
I go into the spare room and settle down to work.

A minute later my husband appears.
"Where are the clean sheets?"
How can I resist the offer of someone else making the bed?
I find the bedding and settle down to work.

Rats, the mouse is downstairs.
I go downstairs to get the mouse.
I remember the notes I wrote in my notebook.
Feeling pleased I take the notebook from my bag and go back upstairs,
picking up the pillowcase that has fallen off the banisters.
I sit down and settle down to work.
The mouse is still downstairs.

I get the mouse.
I can not even have chocolate, as lunch was late and tea will be early.
It is one of those days....

My husband appears
"Do you remember how much I need to pay? You wrote it down."
"I have no idea where?
He looks at my notes.
"You wrote it there...."
He spots the required figure and departs.
I open the file and settle down to work.

A notification comes up, that the power is low and the computer is about to go to sleep...
I go downstairs and get the power lead,
and settle down to work.

A voice floats up the stairs, "Do you want a coffee?"
"Yes please"
"Where is your cup?
"Here"
"Well bring it down then!"
I take my cup downstairs.
The washing has finished its 90 minute cycle.
I hang the washing outside.
The garden looks beautiful in the sunshine... I drink my coffee in the garden.

I go back upstairs and settle down to work.

How does anything ever get done?
It is a mystery!

Here endeth the fourth day.

Wake up call

Every Wednesday during term time my slumbers are rudely disturbed as it is Open the Book day, which entails an early start.  I cannot leave my waking to chance, so it is the one day I use an alarm.  At 7:00am it is activated. To be precise two alarms spring into action, as my husband also sets his.  For years my husband has been an early riser.  However, as I am not a lark by any stretch of the imagination, I have perfected my ability to sleep through his automated wake-up call.  When my own phone is suddenly playing a strange tune right next to my ear, I am unable to sleep through that.  My first thought is usually 

"What on earth is that strange noise? I hope someone turns it off before it wakes me up!"

Oddly no-one does turn it off, so I start to wake up thinking 

"What IS that awful sound!"  

Initially, my brain does not even register it as an alarm, I just think that it is some weird noise.

Eventually, I am awake up enough to grasp that it is actually an alarm. My alarm! And off we go into the wonderful world bringing the Old Testament to life to First School children, and today's realisation that I cannot simultaneously hold a script and fire a bow and arrow!  In desperation, I chucked it where I wanted it to go.... 

This evening was our first evening session of the Mission Shaped Ministry Course in Cradley, a call to the church to wake up to Fresh Expressions of church. 

Pink heart-shaped balloons festooned the venue which we assumed that they had been left over from some party earlier in the day.

We were looking at God’s mission, considering how important it is and where we fit in.  The group comes from a variety of church backgrounds, which brings a range of views to the discussions, allowing us to hear ideas we might not have considered.  

The programme this evening included a very moving clip about the work at Zac's Place in Swansea. Afterwards, we were asked what understanding of God shaped this particular Fresh Expression.

 

At the end of the evening, we were each given one of the beautiful balloons to take away.  

Later I spotted some people going into a pub with a bunch of five identical looking balloons.  Was this coincidence, or had love been in action before the participants even reached the end of the High Street?

Love - keep it or give it away?  

Here endeth the third day.

Minuting the Minutiae

The KHT is off college, with a croaky voice and weariness. Yesterday was her work experience day, which she loves, but afterwards she was so worn out that she collapsed in a heap on the settee and let TV programmes wash over her.

After some decidedly chilly September weather, October feels warmer. As I walked home golden leaves rained down from on high. Around the estates, council workers were tittivating the town  - strimming banks, trimming hedges and removing graffiti. The cynic in me wonders if some royal has decided to pay a visit, or more likely they haven't over spent the landscape budget yet, and are using up the surplus in a hurry, before it disappears into a pothole, or two.

Just before the end of lessons we popped over to a nearby school to hand our letters inviting the students to an after-school club which begins next week.  We got a lovely reception, as many of the children easily recognised us, and were eager to sign up.

After a quick cup of coffee, Operation Border Replanting swung into action.  The positioning of a shrub was a key decision. Technically it is too big for the bed, but it looks so lovely as it catches the sun and has all year interest. We chucked the rule book on garden design on the compost heap and decided it was a worth the compromise.  

The grasses have been divided, the leggy pansies and past-their-best-lobelia are already contributing to next years compost.

The pond was constructed soon after we moved into the house, and came with a whole load of plants.  These included specimens like Carex Buchananii, which we would probably never have considered. One website describes this plant as looking "strangely like hair." In fact it is so strange that we thought it was dead and nearly threw it away.  It only survived because we saw some elsewhere, and realised that it was actually supposed to look like dead hair. We have grown rather fond of our hair-like grass, and named it after a certain American politician.  

Well, dear old  Carex Buchananii nearly came to a sticky end again, because we overlooked it in the replanting.  I had put all the tools away and was tidying up when I noticed it still lying on the flower bed, rather than snugly in it!

This evening we went bellringing in the nearby village that has a name no-one thought twice about before Father Ted...

Most of today was not very significant, but together these small unimportant moments join together to construct my day.  Without words, everything would still have happened just as it did. The leaves would still float on the autumn breeze. The sun would still shine through the leaves on the trees. Nasturtiums will still be bragging with their bright blooms. The squirrel would still be swearing at whatever was currently causing offence, from a vantage point high in the boughs of an oak tree. However, no-one else would know. They may experience similar, but they would be unaware of what small events form a typical day in the life of a Daffodil.  

Weeks, even months can pass without me writing a blog.  The longer the gap, the harder it is to write, as I set a standard that requires sentences of grammatical perfection, and fail... Then there is the detail to consider.  Are the events of the day worthy of being recorded?  If the insignificant is not shared, then the slightly more important may suffer the same fate.  Before we know it, regular occurrences are ignored. Soon to be followed by a casual disregard for the unusual.  Then we find ourselves oblivious to the spectacular.  

Do not let yourself be drawn into this blindness.  Watch the leaves make their unique journey, from the leafy heavens to the ground below. Glory in the colours of October, the vibrant and the muted. Breathe in the musty fermenting odours of fragrant decomposition.  Treasure the day. Minute the minutiae.

Here endeth the second day.

The joys of ambling…

Monday is my day off.   Monday is also a day of innocence, when I have not got round to looking at the calendar and acknowledged what deadlines are approaching.  After all, why sacrifice the moment, when it can be savoured.

Today had been potentially earmarked as a ‘garden day’.  Work needs doing before the ground gets too cold, but sufficient had been achieved over the weekend.  We determined that the soil improver, purchased at £2 a bag from the Household Waste and Recycling Centre to help lighten the clay, needed a day to settle. With the sense of urgency reduced we departed on a fact-finding mission to the glories of the gardens at Hidcote.

While the trees are still quite green, Hidcote was looking decidedly autumnal. Some borders had already been quite heavily pruned. The irises, for instance, had been cut down to just an inch or so.  

Because of the cloud cover, the plants were still embellished with early morning droplets of dew and rain, looking very attractive despite the lack of sunshine.

We admired some low-level plants with pretty leaves. 

 

Hidcote is somewhat lacking in plant labels, so a nearby gardener was asked if he could offer an identification.  He confessed that he was just a volunteer, but he was certain that 'the guy in the hat' a few yards further on would have the answer.  Words of wisdom were sought from 'the guy in the hat'.  He came to examine the plant.  

He paused.  

"I know it begins with A...."

He pondered. 

All the other volunteers stopped work and looked expectantly at their chief, waiting with anticipation.  Would he pass this test of plant identification?  

From deep within his floral memory bank he retrieved an answer. 

"Achilliea" he pronounced triumphantly.  

The volunteers smiled happily and continued their tasks, satisfied that their boss had passed the test.  

The sun shone even brighter.

We treated ourselves to some soup in the cafe.

"It is cabbage soup", said the assistant apologetically. It contained cheese, so what was not to like! The accompanying bread was good too!

October is one of the 2 major birthday months in our family, so having enjoyed the glories of Hidcote, we headed off to find a garden centre, as they usually stock a good range of birthday cards. The National Trust do sell cards, but they weren’t quite what was required.  We discovered a new-to-us garden centre just outside Stratford.  I mananged to solve several birthday dilemas, but I cannot tell you what my purchases were, for these things must be revealed first to the recipient - one of the major rule’s of birthdays!

So an 'amble'y day, was also a successful day.  

After dinner I remembered Sunday, so out came the Concordances, as I started to look at the reception Jesus got at the beginning of his ministry.

Here endeth the first day, of the week.