Sunday stroll

After so many weekends of being confined to barracks so to speak by the weather it was wonderful to get out and blow the cobwebs away with a good yomp along the hills that are directly behind and above us. Youngest son plus Kim the dog accompanied us along Crows Nest Dingle and up onto the ridge where we had wonderful views to the West,and waved to Mountainear.

They took a break on a conveniently placed sawing horse whilst us unfit old women caught up!

Up on the top the air was clear and invigorating, a family of sheep watched us pass by,

The old farming implements have been scurried into a corner,

The heather is amazing at the moment and the smell is gorgeous. As I stopped to take the picture swallows whizzed above me ....singing away ...so happy to be out I should imagine. It hasn't been particularly pleasant for humans but the swallows trekked all the way here from Africa to raise a brood of young in a cold wet summer. I think they will be only too glad to be packing their bags for the return journey.

We stand awhile to take in the different views - this one is North West towards the Cheshire Plain and North Wales...waving madly to ElizM and Bodran ...I know you are up there somewhere.

As we start the journey home the hedgerow was lined with fragile hare bells. I have a picture of me somewhere holding a bunch of harebells on top of another hill when I must have been all of four years old. Have always been drawn to that lovely blue.

And these lovely buildings, warm in the sunshine. Just waiting to be re invented.

Off we go again....

Now the burning question has to be ...if he had forgotten that vile picture was at the picture framers would I ever remind him? The answer has to be a resounding NO! Sadly he did not forget. He couldn't tell you when my birthday is, nor any of the boys, nor the fact that we did once go to Scotland for a holiday, it rained. He couldn't remember any of that but he wouldn't forget where that dratted picture was.

So oft we go again, Churchstoke, Bacheldre, Sarn, Glanmiwl, Kerry and Newtown. Surprisingly it was sunny in Newtown, we collected unmentionable from picture framers and even I have to concede that it does look a tad more acceptable in smarter frame and new mount...colour co-ordinated ..(.that was me!) It was put to sit in the car and told to behave and not bleed all over the boot...(who on earth would ever paint a picture of a stabbed dog and a mad eyed baby and a wolf in its death throes, never mind the bloke in the skirt!)

We actually did 'shopping' .....now I rarely 'do' shopping, I hate it with a passion, I get all hot and uncomfortable, my ears start ringing and I have to get out of the crowds quickly before I scream. However people were thin on the ground, I had a mental list of what was required that included work trousers x 3 (him) pens, folders, paper, envelopes (youngest) tops for work x 2 (me) plus picture hooks, fuit, vegetables, vinegar, nivea and I even have to concede I enjoyed it.

Shopping accomplished and feeling very proud, we returned to the car - me in the hope that someone would have broken in to steal masterpiece. Dreams shattered, again.

We decided to head on to Llanidloes, I had the Patchwork and Quilting Exhibition on my list to have a peep at. The sky turned to navy blue as we drove along and the raindrops, great big, fat, juicy, splattering things started hurling themselves onto the windscreen with gay abandon.

The old market hall is a rather unusual traffic island, with two of the old bells concreted into the foot of one of the corner posts. But what always amuses me is ..if the ground level has fallen in accordance with the legs of the market hall either the people of Llanidloes were very short or they only put animals under there.

I was horrified to find the Laura Ashley shop had gone! Poor old Laura Ashley, the factory and office building in Carno were once thriving sights to behold as they churned out miles of blue sprigged material and needlecord dresses with huge sleeves...go on admit it ...you had one once!

The employment that came with the factories and shops was a godsend to this area, sadly all gone now...I wonder what Laura Ashley would think of her 'empire' now?

The rain would not stop and the Great Oak bookshop was closed, no Laura Ashley to browse in so after a quick wander around the main streets with a brolly we made for home...passing Short Bridge Street, Long Bridge Street or was it Long Short Bridge Street or even Short Long Bridge Street .........I give up

Saturday exploring......AGAIN

We saw an advert somewhere on the roadside last weekend extolling the wonderful promises of A Game Fair in Builth Wells, The Royal Welsh Agricultural Showground was mentioned and so we presumed that should we travel to it on the correct date we would undoubtedly find such an event. N saw it in the paper as well so information confirmed, so despite the threat of impending monsoon we set off, with big black labrador proudly in the back nodding regally to her public..she does love shows.

An uneventful trip to Builth Wells passing more wonderful place names that included Five Turnings, New Invention, Skyborry Green, Llanfairwaterdine, Dolau, Llandrindod Wells to pick out a few. Some strange sights as we passed ...we had to wait in Knighton for a procession of Town Criers to pass ...annual competition, and in Llandrindod it has been Victorian Festival week and most people going about their business on a Saturday moring were dressed in that era. Very disconcerting as a car stops and a woman leaps out shawled and bonneted and flings herself at the Post van .....'STOP' she hollered, 'I thought I'd missed you!' Well she probably had by about a hundred years ...oh well...that's Llandrindod in August for you...

We arrived at the very busy Royal Welsh Showground which was indeed packed with cars, caravans, tents, people and .....dogs! We drove in and parked and walked into the hub of the action ...dogs! We peeped into the exhibition halls ....dogs! Now these dogs were not Game Fair dogs...these dogs were being carried around in specially adapted pushchairs, on trolleys, in cages, these dogs were never destined to be seen covered in mud happily appearing with a dead pheasant hanging from their jaws. Kim looked up at us with a look of sheer horror ....'please do not tell me you have brought me here to partake in this meat market for the canine ..this beauty contest for pooches ....please no?????'


We purchased a cup of tea and sat on a wall ...'bewildered' would cover it I think. How come we were in the right place on the right day but at the wrong do? We decided to leave quietly ...we asked the man on the gate where had we gone ever so slightly wrong....he pointed to a couple of fields up the road .....'everybody is making this mistake ...its up there on one of the car parking fields .....good luck!'


We went to the seaside.

Well actually we drove passed the correct venue and there weren't many cars there and just a collection of motley tents and the big bank of navy blue clouds was about disgorge rather a lot of the wet stuff so we kept going ....into Wales...towards the sea.



Firstly we found ourselves in a little market town... Rhayader. Busy, busy, busy on a Saturday lunchtime. Pretty, with a little clock tower in the middle and many old buildings and shops along narrow streets. We headed out to the Elan Valley lakes, huge reservoirs built back in the early 1900's to provide the industrial midlands with fresh water. Now we have a connection with these lakes .....because when the lead mines closed up on our windy hillsides the miners needed work...quickly, it is recorded that they made their way to the construction sites for these reservoirs. Indeed it is alleged that some would set off on a Sunday night after chapel to walk the 75-80 miles to be at work on the Monday morning. There would have been a steady stream of men heading for the opportunity of earning a decent wage and no doubt they would be begging lifts on farm carts along the way to get thre in time for the Monday start. Can you imagine saying that in the Employment Office today? .....'Oh look here's a job for you...start on Monday bright and early and by the way you will have to make your own way....its only about 75 miles ...on foot' somehow I know what todays job hunters would reply ...and the second word would be 'off'!


We found the lakes and the huge dams ...the water is currently right to the top and just spilling over and as always when I see such constructions I go through the 'what if' scenarios ...and shudder. The last time I saw these lakes they were at their lowest level one hot summer a few years ago. At the momment they look to be at their winter levels...absolutely full. The sky was darkening for rain and the colour of the water was mercury grey and black as tar in the shadows of the wooded hillsides. The lakes are arranged as locks on a canal, eack lake higher than the previous with a dam in the neck. The lakes all have Welsh sing song names, Craig Coch, Penygarreg, Garreg-ddu, Caban Coch and Claerwen. We left the Claerwen lake and took 'The Mountain Road to Aberystwth' ...I was so glad I wasn't driving at this point. Not that it was a bundle of laughs being the passenger either looking down sheer drops into the valleys below.






On the top of the Cambrian Mountain range we found the almost deserted old village of Cwmystwth, ruins of buildings and rows of old cottages all bricked up show a mining or quarrying heritage long gone. The river Ystwyth must start hereabouts before crashing down onto the flat land behind Aberystwyth on the coast where it joins the sea by the marina.





We picked our way round the narrow lanes, at one time we were above a Red Kite and we watched his ginger plumage glinting in the watery sun as he drifted on a thermal with his eyes firmly on his prey far below in the valley. With a twist of his forked tail he plummetted earthwards and we lost sight of him.





More hamlets as we made our way down the mountains, but overall we were in an unpeopled area of green and gold,,,,just us and sheep...for miles and miles. For some reason we would find a red post box on the verge ....not a sign of habitation for miles ..just a post box. I wondered who used them ...poor post man having to slog all the way up here to open the box regularly for what?






The views of the sea and the valleys were amazing, the strange stormy sky cast a gloomy light but it remained clear as we found our way down to the coast.





At the coast it was windy but dry and I can't ever remember walking the sea front at Aberytwth in a tee shirt, wooly jumper AND a waterproof on 15th AUGUST for goodness sake. The paddling pool had been emptied. The sea front activities packed away, not a deckchair in sight. A family wandered past clutching ice creams, the children newly shod for THE holiday I expect. What a shame if this was their annual week's holiday at the sea.








Kim had a well earned swim in the sea, I collected a carrier bag of driftwood and shells, we found an open kiosk selling hot drinks and we went home for tea. Through Llanidloes, Llandinam, Kerry and Sarn.......

I could live there.....

Last weekend found us on a mission to Wales for a diesel cap for the truck, I lost the original..oops, as you do, filling it up with diesel, left it on the pump and walked off nattering away, as you do - only for Mr Oh So Righteous saying about 50 miles later - 'you did put the diesel cap on didn't you?' Needless to say I gave him a filthy look as I uttered those immortal words, 'Course I did - what do you think I am? a moron?' When he checked a few miles later he just said one word -'Yes!' I have not lived this incident down for a few weeks.

One had to be ordered, bit more salt to be rubbed into the wound. Anyway on our way back from very nice 4x4 garage in Newtown we decided to wander off the normal route as we are wont to do ...sprotting round looking for For Sale signs, pretty villages, stone barns in need of TLC whatever...along the border with Wales. We turned off the Newtown to Llandrindod helter skelter road as soon as possible and found ourselves at the top of the Felindre valley.

The Felindre valley became famous a few years ago when this area experienced rather a momentous event and yes the earth did move for me and quite a few others that summer afternoon as chunks of masonry fell off buildings in Shrewsbury some 50 miles away. There is a fault line along the Felindre valley and the epicentre of the earthquake was slap bang right there, in amongst the open moorland dotted with sheep and sign posts to such places as Beguildy and Monaughty Poeth. I love these mysterious half Welsh, half mythological place names. Mary Webb did too because she used them in her novels set in the borderlands of South Shropshire. Beguildy, I think was a wizard type in The Golden Arrow, but was it Precious Bane? whilst Mrs Felindre was the matriarch in The House in Dormer Forest. Vessons was the 'butler' of sorts at the Hall in 'Gone to Earth'. Presumably Mary Webb would wander round these same high hedged lanes peeping over gates and through gaps in the trees into the valleys below with a story forming as she travelled.

Last week we found our way down the valley to Knighton and after a 'pit stop' we wandered back to A E Houseman's 'Clunton and Clunbury, Clungunford and Clun .the quietest places under the sun'...they still are. They are also very picturesque and guess where the camera was ?- at home!

I had never actually found my way to Clungunford before and immediately fell in love with it. Stone cottages with quirky windows hid under huge oak trees, gardens peeped out stuffed with hollyhocks and flocks, sweet peas and roses...chickens scratched in the dust outside a gate and alongside a basket of obviously free range eggs stood some jars of home made jam and an honesty box. I could live there, and paint pictures and write a best seller ...it just looks like that sort of place.

Today we went back for said diesel cap that for the price must be cast in solid gold but that apparently was of little consequence seeing as it was me that paid for the dratted thing in an effort to teach me ...TEACH ME ...to be more careful in future ...mutter mutter. We also took HIS picture to be reframed and restored ...with any luck it may disintegrate when they take it to pieces but I know I'm not that lucky. I stuck my two pennyworth in re the frame and the mount in the hope that I may find the 'new look' a bit more inspiring than the original. Its not a picture that inspires me to anything really, except a migraine perhaps, but he loves it so up with it I will have to put! So here IT is in its 'before' state and in two weeks time we'll see if IT is any better in an 'after' state ...somehow I doubt it. Anybody that doesnt know IT depicts the story of Beddlegirt - oops sorry can never resist that, BEDDGELERT ...Prince Llewellyn and his faithful hound Gelert who came to a rather nasty end.

Today after depositing picture from hell we found another route back, this time we found even more poetic names as we followed Offa's Dyke, and dozens of walkers in waterproofs, Pentre nant, Two Crosses, Three Gates, Edenhope, The Lurkeys, Mainstone, Llanhedrick, Shadwell, Mardu, Cefn Einion, Colebatch and back to one of my all time favourites Bishops Castle, I could live there as well. I could happily wander up and down the steep main steet listening to the quarter hour bell on the Market Hall clock and live in a purple town house with a black and white gable, or a green one with white spots...yep ...I forgot the camera again today ...blast!

Show time!

Over the years I have got sadly disillusioned with Agricultural Shows ...the machinery gets bigger, the entrance fee gets bigger and since foot and mouth, blue tongue ( green hair or whatever plague is still to befall us) the animal classes have dwindled under the burden of Reulations, Regulations Regulations....but there is still one that we will make an effort for ...Burwarton on the Viscount Boyne estate is very South -South Shropshire. We were on our way nice and early but still had to queue for an age along the twisty narrow lanes before we could park.

The show is held in a beautiful setting of a valley with wooded hills and the showground itself is full of mature trees which give respite from the sun, shelter from the storms and are a lovely backdrop for the animals. It is probably the biggest one day agricultural show left in the calendar but it still retains an olde worlde feel good factor. The music was from the old steam fairground organs dotted around, traction engines hooted, ducks quacked in the poultry enclosure and an upset cow hollered for her calf. The heavy horses tinkled and jangled their way into the ring, the horse brasses catching the sun as they moved.

We wandered around the food stalls collecting goodies for a picnic later that included olives with garlic and parsley, stuffed vine leaves, different cheeses, fresh bread and warm welsh cakes. T and I went on a tasting spree of the wines and liquers available whilst Grandad stayed in charge of the pushchair with its occupant who needed to be out and running...NOW!

A truck laden with freshly cut corn on the cob and sunflowers gave a rather continental feel to the proceedings.

I have seen this showground bursting with sheep and cows, in fact it was my ?0th birthday treat a few years ago to lead a prize sheep around the ring in a white coat ...had always always wanted to do that...sad person that I am. But today the livestock field was nowhere near full, such a shame, but the cow men and the shepherds were all out in force meeting up for an annual natter with best cap and jacket out for the occasion. There was a sad tinge to the day because we always met friends there ....they emigrated to Canada two years ago and so it was odd knowing we were definitely not going to see them anywhere, and I did think about them quite a lot as I saw faces I vaguely recognised from past christenings or parties that I couldn't put a name to.

We let T loose on the roundabout as a treat to finish before struggling back to the truck carrying a huge wicker dog bed, loadsa goodies for those who stayed at home, all the paraphanalia that goes with a fifteen month old ...and the sky opened ......we got soaked ...all of us!

Purple haze.....

I love purple ..well I would wouldn't I..? being one of those naughty nannys that fully intends to grow old DISgracefully, wear purple and a red hat, drink out of the bottle and spit at the cat....

Just a few of my purple flowers.....

I tell lies as well - coz this wisteria is on the opposite side of the valley not far from Mountainear ...still I can dream......

Clematis - Broughton Star ...now this IS mine ...on the summer house ...it actually stayed put when the roof did not!

perennial geranium ..Mountainear if you want to split it ...you will have to come and show me how to do it ........

Orchids - found behind the seahouses at Low Newton overlooking Embleton Bay and we all know about 'The Most Beautiful Beach in the World' dont we?

You KNOW ........>>>>>>>>that one >>>>>>

...and these aren't mine either ...they actually belong to the Duchess of Northumberland but I'm sure she wont mind me sharing .....OK OK I know they are more blue than purple ...but they are just gorgeous.....did you know that delphiniums are poisonous? No neither did I!




Some wonderful foxgloves to finish ....did you know that the foxes wear them on their feet so the chickens cant hear them until its too late .......?

Summertime........

It might only be one day so it was a case of make the most of it....plus the fact I think for the first time in 29+ years we have become childless for the weekend! WOW! Can't remember this ever happening before! J is working on a sleep in and G has gone to a party in North Shropshire and even grandson has gone to a bit of a 'do' and doesnt require 'sitting'

So we played hooky...I baked a trout, (one that he caught very recently in his new found hobby).... in the bottom oven whilst sunning myself working in the garden, then with it well wrapped up we headed for the top of the hills. Once we had picked our spot right up on top of the Longmynd overlooking the gliding station we unwrapped the fish which was oozing butter and lemon and shared the succulent pink flesh mopping up all the juices with some fresh bread. A chocolate mousse and a cup of coffee to finish ...rather a posh decadent alternative to fish and chips I thought. The journey back down the hair raising and toe curling mountain track to Asterton is worthy of a few screams but instead I walked and took pictures...