This rather beautiful area is just a few miles from us, outside Hutton-le-Hole. You turn off onto a small lane there is no exit at the other end and drive down through the woods. A hidden valley it belongs to the land that time forgot. There is a cottage half way down but I think it needs repair, there is someone living in a caravan with a dog there.
This is where I want to walk (when I can) with Lucy, who is putting on weight and is quite happy not to walk, always ready to come home. I read this morning that dogs are more susceptible to cancer since we have started feeding them on dog biscuits. Not surprised, the remedy is apparently to feed them more vegetables and fruit. Lucy loves both, especially cabbage stalks and pears.
There is a circular walk from Hutton-le-Hole through Douthwaite Dale and an eighteen century tale of a young woman walking along on the way from Gillamoor, who became pregnant by a young man, (this was because he had taken a splinter from her finger) but his intentions was to wed a wealthy farmer's daughter. The young woman broke her heart when she later found out and drowned herself in the beck in her shift or sark, a word I haven't come across. But sadly the young man when he discovered her body in the beck had just come back from York to get a marriage certificate for both of them to be wed.
Daily walking will do me good as my blood pressure, always high, has reached another high. Never go to the doctors has always been my first thought, they always find something else wrong with you, but he is a nice doctor and after trying several b/p machines decided I needed a check-up. So walking soon is definitely on the list. My car is anchored to the ground I noticed this morning by strands of spider web, should all be dislodged by now as we have just had a terrible thunderstorm with rain sheeting down.