On the way home after a meeting at the seaside the other day (and I really do question my decision to take on a couple of big pieces of consultancy work which are proving to be very restricting), I spotted these chaps (what is it about donkeys that always makes me want to cry?) relaxing after their summer of giving children rides along the beach.
Seeing them reminded me of my early days as a trainee social worker when the then purveyor of the donkey rides used to farm his donkeys out during the winter months to anyone who would have them. Visiting a family in a part of town with now long gone streets of two up two down terraced houses, I was greeted at the door by one of the children with "Come and see what we've got". They'd taken one of them in. Literally. The donkey was living inside the house with them all.
Close to home, I stopped again (brazenly ignoring the "Private track. Keep out." sign) to snap this view of my favourite local landmark looking hazy in this most unseasonal weather.
Whilst I was out doing my consultancy thing, the mister had been busy adding glass panels to a little garden project. Remember this "before" picture of the bottom of the garden, when the old fencing was being taken down?
Here's what that corner looks like now.
The grassed area has been re-turfed, the wee summerhouse is in place and just needs some final tweaking (and a table and chairs for inside), and the shrubs and trees are recovering from some, it has to be said, brutal hacking. Oh yes, and the adirondack chair has finally been painted and given its first airing. After languishing in the garage for three years.
Progress, methinks.
At long last.
Well, that was a surprise. Although living less than an hour and a half from its borders, neither of us are at all familiar with Northumberland. My day trip to Holy Island as a youngster and the Mister's week's camping at Kielder when he was 14 just about sums up previous visits. As someone who once (mistakenly) thought civilisation ended at Leeds, I've always tended to turn left onto the A1 and headed south. Now we know what we've been missing.
The country's most northerly county, and reportedly the least populated, Northumberland offered so much (despite some dismal weather). Wide, empty beaches, breathtaking countryside, castles, priories, stately homes, gardens, a very long Roman wall, an island accessible by a causeway at low tide, rollercoaster country roads resulting in Incredible Levitating Dog in the back of the car, lakes, forests, market towns, seaside villages, the knitted Royal Wedding (displayed in the window of a house), Waitrose (there are no branches near us) and sheep. So many sheep. My little camera really couldn't do justice to any of it.
Our base for the week was a cottage (a converted byre) on a small farm near Hexham. When I say cottage, think underfloor heating, woodburning stove, antique furniture and accessories, fully equipped kitchen and situated next to the farmhouse which originally was a Tudor long house. Boo took a while to settle in, though this farm resident caught his eye as a potential playmate .
Alas, he wasn't her type.
The warm spell seems to have brought everyone out into the garden. Even us. We'd planned last year (and probably the year before) to do a lot of much needed work in the back garden but, predictably, we didn't make much progress. Well, if I'm honest, we didn't make any progress. So we are hoping to get on with it this year. We've had estimates (eye watering!) for replacing some fencing, the patch of grass will be re-turfed and I have plans for a new shed to replace the existing one which we bought as a playhouse for the kids when they were little. I don't think anyone has ventured inside it for years though I seem to remember it was carpeted and has book shelves and seating. Then there's replanting to do to fill gaps and replace some mature shrubs we lost over the winter, plus general tidying up.
But there were signs of some old favourites coming to life as we pottered today, with the Boo in charge of plant pots.
(Periwinkle)
(Whitebeam)
(Weeping pear)
We were observed by Percy, a one time regular visitor to the garden who reappeared recently, sadly with his left eye missing.
Of course, someone disgraced himself by falling into the pond.
At least we now know he can swim.
This is Boo on his first venture (we're not counting being driven to the vets) into the Outside World. Actually, we only walked to the end of our road but when you've never explored beyond the garden it's a big adventure.
It was so exciting he had to have a sit down on the step to take it all in. The experience certainly took its toll as he slept for hours afterwards. While he was tucked up in bed I should have taken the opportunity to do some work (feeling overloaded at the moment) but I escaped to the kitchen for a spot of baking. More of the no-knead bread and some cupcakes.
Nothing too taxing.
Nothing special.
Just a bit more colourful than usual.
Edited to add: For those who asked, I just divided the cake mix into 5 more or less equal portions and coloured each with a selection of colouring pastes. (The red and orange are too similar so I'd probably use more of the red colouring next time). Then it's just a matter of building up layers in the cake cases using a teaspoon. Simples.
The Husband took this photograph of our favourite garden visitor enjoying a snack this morning.
We also noticed some damage in the garden caused by the weight of the snow. Spot the gap near the pond where a mature vibernum used to be (and which is now laid forlornly on the table). The same happened last winter when we lost a well established and rather gorgeous ceanothus.
As for the Christmas cake, I took the advice offered and went ahead without currants. It's baking right now.
***This song, which I vaguely remember Doris Day singing, will be forever associated with early days at dancing class. It's the ideal tempo for mastering basic tap steps (hop shuffle down, hop shuffle down, kick out, bang bang, kick out, bang bang) but it was also one of the few tunes my first dance teacher, Miss Hardy, could bash out on the old studio piano. Without the sheet music. And always with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth. Happy days.
This week didn't get off to a good start when I was given some information I really didn't want to hear. But there were some welcome positives as the days progressed, such as:
The little sugar handbags are new additions.
So far today I've been browsing cook books for new dishes to add a bit of variety to our menus here and made some fabulously ruby coloured beetroot soup using an old recipe I'd forgotten about. I might summon the energy to bake a batch of cheese scones for tea later. No promises, though.
The Mister here volunteers at the local RSPCA animal centre and today was their annual summer gala. He was on car park duty (after his usual dog related tasks). My job was to make cupcakes for the tea tent.
If you're wondering, those black blobs are meant to be Scottie dogs. Whilst I stuck to my usual decorations, I wanted to have some canine themed cakes so made these.
The gala is obviously a fundraising event but it's also an opportunity for rehomed dogs to make a return visit and take part in fun competitions . These are some of the entrants for "The Dog The Inspector Would Most Like To Take Home".
Then it was time to practice for a game of Musical Sit based on that old party favourite, Musical Chairs. Hilarious.
The Boy and I made a sharp exit before the start of The Dog With The Most Moving Rescue Story judging. He didn't want to be embarassed by my inevitable weeping.
On the way to the car we passed the American miniature horses.
Now I do like a well dressed miniature horse.
Yesterday was Bilsdale's 100th Show. In comparison to many of the county shows, Bilsdale's is small but I think all the more enjoyable because of that.
The weather didn't look at all promising as I packed a picnic, far from it, but hey, sometimes you have to live a little dangerously. The venue was a short drive from here, away from the towns and into the glorious North York Moors national park.
There were vintage vehicles.
Prize winning animals.
One farmer's little dog was cock a hoop his owner had won the coveted rosette.
Ponies and riders.
Into the big tent for home produce and crafts. I would have given this Garden in a Box first place.
Entrants lining up for one of the classes in the dog show.
Over the road for the start of the hound trail.
They're off and heading for the hills.
The winner by a mile....
Fortunately, the rain held off and there was even a bag of Rhubarb and Custards from the Bygone Sweets stall for the journey home.
Well, that went quick. The weekend, that is. We had no plans but seem to have fitted in........
- a bit of shopping, resulting in the purchase of a couple more books from a charity shop, a pie dish and Jane Asher biscuit cutters in a tin from Matalan (worth looking in if you're after cheap kitchen stuff). The soaps, with irresistible names like Turkish Delight, Swinging Sixties, Bed of Roses, Summer Solstice, were from a nearby farmer's market. I didn't know farmers made soap.
- some (uncomfortable) telly watching
- Sunday lunch in a North Yorkshire village
- a spot of wildlife gazing (whilst the giant Yorkshire puds and apple crumble settled)
- a glimpse of history
- some refereeing
Please don't be alarmed at the baring of teeth. This was not a re-run of the Holyfield/Tyson match and all ears remained intact.
