1957 - April Fool

 

Still a killer.  The spaghetti tree.

30th March 2026

Our trip included a visit to the 'Nature in Art' Exhibition which just down the road from the Travel Lodge we were staying in.  It was a mixture of art work and photos and was host to many overseas artists and photographic work.   The rather good abstract paintings below had been turned into B/W by my camera as well.

Occasionally my phone camera goes into B/W

Some stunning fire surrounds in this Georgian House.  Notice it has a 'broken pediment, a feature that always intrigues me for some reason.

 I notice there are a lot of paintings around that are abstract in their design and have come to the conclusion, that this is design work for our modern interior designers, so very similar to the Georgian era when what you put on the wall reflected your status.  In todays world though a colour matching scheme.

In the natural garden, there was bright yellow in all the shrubs, forsythia, mock orange and mahonia echoed in the daffodils.  Also, I even saw fields of yellow rape seed flowers.  Goodness know how all this was surviving in the Artic cold weather we were experiencing.

Why did I take this photo? Because that white flower is Sweet Rocket.

Andrew obviously goes Hawaiian when he surveys his domain but the whole event was of course in honour of an old friend and many,many years ago neighbour - J.  Who was 90 years old last weekend.  We travelled in style in a Mercedes, Andrew drove beautifully and I was able to see the computer system running on the car - so different from the old days ;) but I do miss the old beautiful maps that we struggled with in a strong wind.  

This is one of the sons, he was a slim dark haired teenager when I last saw him babysitting my daughter.  Time definitely catches up with you.
 

We did drive past Lacock Abbey but did not have time to stop and walk about

The hotel which was hosting several functions

The party which was in its way very touching as people met up

And one story.  I had been warned that the person who eventually bought my house the last time wanted to talk to me.  I was slightly worried about this, but I need not have.  He gave me a long talk of what he had done to the house, had some trouble with the kitchen floor.  Now this dated back to when I left the house.  This house was a new build, but the builder of the estate of bungalows had carelessly built my semi-detached on top of an old well causing a crack to appear in the back wall.  It was mended under the 10 year builder guarantee but Keith muttered about chucking stuff down the well and then putting a piece of corrugated iron over the well to hide the hole, was how the job was done.  Anyway he loved the house and with his wife they were happy there.  But like me he loved animals and kept horses down at a Bremhill stables.  He showed Welsh cobs and had won first in show with them.

When I asked him did he keep his horses to the end  he said yes right to the very end.  He reckoned it was the price of a second mortgage each month £600/£700 a month.

27th March 2026

 Packed and ready to go early this evening, we shall dine on pizzas. Also have a bit of a migraine but hey-ho. So a few photos and a poem by Auden, because all things come to an end, and I mean Trump not myself by the way;)

Whitby and its new slab of marble

Solva woods, probably an old path to Middle Mill

Hole of Horcum

A place I never managed to walk to. Carn Alw (Fort of Echoes) Iron Age fort with a Chevaux de frise in the Prescelli hills.  I am not sure I took this photo so feeling guilty.  But I could have taken it from Foel Drygarn fort with its three large barrows

The 199 steps in Whitby

"The laws of Icarus is something Trump has to face."  Hits the spot precisely.  An interview between Alistar Cambell and Jon Stewart.

Musée des Beaux Arts

By W. H. Auden

December 1938

About suffering they were never wrong,

The Old Masters: how well they understood

Its human position; how it takes place

While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along

How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting

For the miraculous birth, there always must be

Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating

On a pond at the edge of the wood:

They never forgot

That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course

Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot

Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse

Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.

In Brueghel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away

Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may

Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry, 

But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone

As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green

Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen

Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,

Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

26th March 2026

Well just a BBC video of bees in a Bristol garden.  What dedication this photographer has given to his subject over the years and what a beautiful unkempt garden, a secret paradise for those insects that fly by quite undisturbed by our presence.

From  early childhood I have loved the natural world, plants, insects and yes the little tiddlers we caught in the pond as well as the frogs and toads hopping around.  Up to the age of about 12 we had a lovely Victorian garden, see here and then I got put into boarding school.

So enjoy the many species of bees this photographer finds in his garden, I have always loved the bumble bees, rescuing them when I can, though I know someone will tell me not to feed them honeyed water though they seem lively enough when I have done it.

The bee is the greatest pollinator on this Earth, she provides the food on which we rely on, and yet they are disappearing sadly because of over-use of herbicides and pesticides.

And because there is often an edit, here is today's........

Ursula Le Guin -The Carrier Bag Theory of human evolution.

25th March 2026

 I woke up on a dream this morning, which shows I am beginning to worry about this weekend.  We are going to a fancy birthday party of a very old friend and neighbour in Beanacre.  It is held in a hotel with all the marks of Wiltshire's stone heritage and a beautiful garden to boot.  

But I note it is at Beanacre between Calne and Chippenham and not too far from Lacock Abbey, a must place to visit if you in this part of Wiltshire.  The village has an old age feel to it and there is of course a few miles away the utterly 'roses' round the door old cottages to be seen at Castle Combe.

Lacock Abbey

Castle Combe village

Wiki on Castle Combe

Wiki on Lacock Abbey  And those interested  in photography will be able to see the work of Henry Fox Talbot a pioneer of photography there.

These are the areas in which our archaeology weekends often took place and very close to my heart, as so much of the English countryside is ;) ;)

And so what was the dream?  Well I was dressed to the nines in a turquoise dress (favourite colour) and very high heels ;) turquoise of course.  I have never worn high heels since about my 30s but obviously I am worried about what to wear.   I have a choice of two dresses, luckily, as I gave all my dresses away a few days ago! But kept my latest two which are from Sea Salt, I remember how Pat/Weaver also shopped there.  They have a 'petite' size which is most useful.

Iro

 Colour and Spirit

Before you read the headlines of this beleaguered world and find out that the disrupter in chief @47 has called Gavin Newsom the president of the US.  Allow this Japanese video of the colour green sooth your mind, and for a moment dwell on colour; a thousand shades though only 35 in the video.  Wander through the fresh green of spring, touching the leaves with your mind and rejoice that nature can be so beautiful.

Sunday - Castle Howard

Lillie came home on Friday night for the Easter break.  She went scouting yesterday with others for suitable camp sites for the scouts for the May holidays.  A list included Lancashire (it's just over the border in Tod), West Yorkshire and North Yorkshire.

I really miss North Yorkshire it is so countrified, so different to this end of Yorkshire.  Small villages. and I had read yesterday, in useless news, that the Howardian Hills is the place to be.  

I suppose Castle Howard gives N. Yorks more credence than it should have.  We never visited the interior, I get tired of looking at over dressed castles, and this one is not a defensive one  more an extravagant flight of fancy.  Having been so mealy mouthed over Castle Howard, here is a brilliant tour of the house and its furnishings, sculptures and just gorgeousness of the whole place.  But so much easier to see from the comfort of one's computer chair.  So enjoy a masterpiece of rich spending.

The inner courtyard

Lillie playing with my dolls house!

A walk this afternoon

Well I'm not winning any prizes for my mural but I think it is a blue poppy...

Grateful recipients

The postman has finished delivering post he is delivering bread now for the  geese and ducks

Moored canal boats

Winter has not been kind to this boat.  It was in beautiful shape last year.  Clean and crisp, it is called Carpe Diem

 

19th March 2026

 Is there any good news around I wonder?  Well 147 showjumping horses have been airlifted out of Qatar....And before some of you get on your high horses and remind me of the tourists stuck in the Middle East, yes I know....

The evacuation of 147 elite horses from Qatar to Europe was a high-stakes logistical operation due to the closure of Qatari airspace. The horses were transported by road to Riyadh and then by air to Liège Airport in Belgium. The operation involved specialized padded "jet stalls" for the horses, a team of veterinarians and grooms, and a coordinated effort from the Doha Equestrian Tour, Qatar Airways, and local stakeholders. The horses, including those ridden by German show jumper Janne Friederike Meyer-Zimmermann, were moved safely to Europe, ensuring their welfare.

What else? The long Distance England Coastal Path has been officially opened. 2000 miles of coastal path, probably the longest managed path in the world.  But note Scotland and Wales are not part of it which is a shame.

Nearer to home: We had a gas scare yesterday afternoon it was out in the street, so they had to go into the end empty terrace house next door and turn the gas off there.  And as we have all woken in one piece this morning, they must have made it safe.  Anyway their barriers have only joined up with the barriers on the main road, goodness knows what they are doing, but it has resulted in streams of cars through the town because of the traffic lights.

Then there is the saga of parcels.  You may know that Andrew and Karen just love ordering stuff.  But who gets to answer the door for these parcels? me.

I complain bitterly of course, especially last week whilst they were away as books kept arriving, luckily I have most of the delivery people just putting the parcels inside the back door.

This time I had been warned to look out for a specific parcel, it went next door, and I, fed up, said to my daughter by email, "bloody parcels you can get it yourselves".  Of course the parcel was my Mothering Day present - so I apologised.

And guess what if you go to the Canary Islands you can shop at Lidls! No exotique fruit then I said.  Also Karen managed to find me Miso paste for my soups yesterday in Manchester, I am definitely going Japanese in my cooking.  I think because so many of the sauces are sweet.

And one last piece of happy news, (I know it never lasts) is land being planted with trees in Frome for the  happiness of future children.  Also yesterday the government has brought out a New Plan to Reshape how we protect and manage our land .  Do hope they leave the scruffy bits in though.

One other: It was a surprise to see Coltsfoot on Codlins and Cream blog.  A plant I believe whose flowers appear before the leaf, must look that up.  I remember them as a child, probably the first plant I took an interest in then.

A ploughman's lunch

 As always when you revisit blogs they toss up moments of memory, especially the photos.  Happy memories I might add.  Beer, cheese and bread is the traditonail meal of the old ploughmen.

Clear beautiful amber beer.  You can only get this colour with homemade quince jelly.

"We would go for a walk by the river Ter and then come back for Paul's favourite beer, clear amber in the sun, don't ask why British men love their beer, just look at its clarity.  Anne would do a delicious 'ploughman's lunch' for about £4, half a pound of cheese with crisp baguette and salad, and enticing little packets of butter and Branston pickle.  If it was winter you would find Wally grumbling in front of  the log fire as he fed its ever hungry flames.

It was one of my favourite walks and lunch at the pub crowned it all.  Essex in its backwaters can be very beautiful and verdant you just have to seek these places out.  Wally in his retirement bought himself a tiny house turned into an occasional pub, and filled the large barn by the side with two enormous steam engines (his other passion). "

Wally

Beer is a whole book in itself.  But the glass in front probably held my 'milk' stout.  Not sure why it was called milk, but it is a 'lady's' drink because it is good for you;)

British men make such a fuss about drinking beer that it is a subculture in itself. That though we might have the big companies with their beers, a lot of little breweries have started up vying for recognition.

It was a very welcoming pub though Wally always looked cross and dogs were definitely not admitted to a cat's pub, there was one live cat I think.

Funnily finding the photos for this blog reminded me of how pubs have grown up over the last 30 years maybe?

  

The above pub, no dogs, no children, would probably invoke a certain rage in some people's chests.  The class written structure would see the local visitors to the Cats as fairly wealthy middle class retirees, turning up in their sports cars, or fancy done up old fashioned car.  

It brings to mind a pub we visited here in Caldervale, I can't remember which town, but let us say Halifax.  We had a room booked at a Travel Lodge.  We arrived at the TL in the early evening but the room was as dismal as all these places often are, so we went for a walk and maybe to seek out fish and chips.  There was an old fashioned pub so we went in.  There was about a dozen  people in the room.  A deathly silence rolled over the room as everyone turned in our direction. Maybe we were aliens?  We sat in perfect silence and drank our drinks quickly.  And yes they are friendly 'Up North' but not all the time.