Pen 56!

Saturday morning, the alarm went off and with a quick squint out of the window to see what the weather held in store we were on the starting blocks and away with the front runners. Straight down the A488 through Bishops Castle, Clun and Knighton heading for a farm on the hillside above Llandrindod Wells to a farm sale. As we drove along, the mist that lay in the valleys was rising under the warmth of the sun; already tractors were out ploughing silhouetted against the bright light. As we clattered around the narrow streets in the little towns, an empty livestock trailer clatters like the very devil on a quiet morning, old men were walking back from newsagents shops with the daily papers neatly folded, neatly folded white paper bags hiding delectable treats for later and the obligatory old dogs on leads tottering along with resigned expressions on their grey faces.

We followed the signs up into the mist after leaving Penybont and climbed into the hills, we couldn't actually see them but just knew that they were out there somewhere. We parked in amongst a whole field of Landrovers and Ifor Williams trailers, 4x4's of every size and breed and cattle lorries. Well you dont go to a farm sale without the means to bring something home do you? The mist was really cold and heavy as we walked up to the farm, it was collars up and where's my gloves as I pushed young Toby in his pushchair across the bumpy grassy ruts and wished desperately I had worn wellies.

Within minutes the sun had disposed of the mist and I was amazed at the glorious view of the hills which make up the Radnor forest. Red kites swirled overhead, such majestic birds. I was able to watch a family of them for most of the day which was indeed a treat. They mewed to each other as they rose and drifted on the thermals - the youngsters definitely shouting 'quick look at me, look at me, look what I can do' just as youngsters do.

While the shepherd wandered with shepherd's little helper around the machinery and piles of rusty iron and useless bits of tat that always get lugged into a farm sale I sat on a draw bar of an imposing blue trailer in the sun and people watched. By this time all the fleeces were tied round middles, it just got hotter and hotter. Fresh faced girls with bouncy pony tails went by following the farm lads in their best boiler suits. Those that had come for the social occasion found friends and dutifully discussed the weather and other friends with intense expresssions and a lot of 'ooooo's' and 'ahhhhhhhh's', 'he never' and 'oh but he did'...new babies were peeped at and the growth rate of toddlers admired.

We ate our picnic on a flat trailer in the sun, Toby was totally confused because he hadn't got a plate to eat his sandwiches off - how remiss a grandma can be on a Saturday? He could not put the sandwiches down so had to hold them all squashed in chubby hands and manage as best he could while grandma laughed her socks off at his efforts! Thank goodness for wet wipes.

The shepherd had spotted some sheep he fancied and so we trailed up the field after him in the midday sun. Toby was in and out of all the pens outstretched hands to each and every one of the thousand sheep trying to make friends with just one. We plonked him in an empty pen - no 56 - just to keep him under control for five minutes but he soon worked out the escape route.

As the shepherd waited for the pen of his choice to go under the hammer I took the tiring Toby up onto the road in his chariot to get some respite from the searing heat and we wandered backwards and forwards under the shady trees, Toby dozed and I got myself chatted up by a couple of gnarled old famers who were also taking advantage of the trees to get some shade. One old farmer smiled winningly showing his two teeth and was indeed quite open with his conversation, ' You aren't from round here are you?' 'Is that yorn babby?' (not bad really in the same week as I was charged OAP rates to go into the cinema) 'Is yer husband alive?' (he wont be if he bids more than £40 for those sheep!) Whilst the other one did have a bit more finesse and a few more teeth......

He bought the sheep. We loaded them up and were back on our way to Shropshire with a sleeping Toby before I was whisked away by a two toothed Wesh farmer looking for a wife/housekeeper/shepherdess. We delivered the sheep to the fields, duly wormed, marked and tagged and then it was off to deliver Toby back home- filthy and clutching an eccles cake with grim determination desperate to find a plate - civilisation -plates- what a relief, bless him! I bet he slept well last night, I know I did!

Just a quiet, ordinary sort of weekend.........

You mean that not everybody is woken by the sound of deep breathing coming from OUTSIDE the bedroom window at about 2am on a Saturday morning? A retching scrawking sound seems to relieve it for a while and then it starts again, wheeze, wheeze, wheeze. 'Oh for goodness sake cough properly or sod off!' I shout from under my duvet. No good, I am too awake, so I pad across to look down onto the top of the bay window below and there he is - my asthmatic owl!

We have noticed owl pellets on the top of the bay window a number of times and he is often there on fine nights wheezing away, but Friday night had been a night of disharmony in the owl population in the woods around us, the noise was unbelievable, meanwhile he sat there gasping away as though he had been a forty woodbine a day kinda owl!

By 6am I was up again to chase sheep round a field, as you do first thing on a beautiful Saturday morning. The lambs were sold and heading off to Wales by 10:30am. The Nationwide shareholders can sleep easy in their beds for a couple of days knowing that our sheep account looks a lot healthier than it has done for a long time.

I left the shepherds repairing fences in the sunshine and went off for another walk around Attingham Park. I collected a friend and grandson Toby on the way. Needless to say when I picked Toby up he was immaculate. Ha! we can soon alter that... as he fell headlong on the soft soil along the woodland path ....about six times! Then add an ice cream on a stick...yesssssssssss! Then hand him back to his dad, 'All yours to scrub clean...byeeeeeeee!' I am indeed a very naughty nanny ....tee hee!

The walled garden was bakingly hot in the sunshine and the colours of the cutting garden so vivid.

Home, to actually eat outside as dusk fell, the birds sang in the trees, especially a very voluble robin and big furry moths crashed around in the buddleia as though they were lager louts on a foreign holiday. I wonder what happens to them in all this bad weather we have had?...(moths not lager louts!)

Sunday - misty morning, cobwebs on all the hedges, heck this really IS Autumn. After a quick dash to Church to read the lesson on Holy Cross Day I came back down the lane to meet our neighbour who was setting out to an airfield in North Shropshire for a plane ride. Back at a street party in June he had one of those birthday's with noughts on and we had all clubbed together to buy him something to remember as a treat. He assured me that at 12:45 he would indeed be looking down to see what we get up to.

Cue mischief! Right... so between naughty neighbour and naughty nanny we gather towels, rugs, dog beds, kids dogs and husbands with binoculars into the field. We lay out a huge cross and wait for a plane to emerge from the North East. We waved at the big silver ones leaving vapour trails on their way South but they were a bit high really. Then out of the cloud drones this little white plane. Hysteria broke out. We waved sheets, we danced around the cross, the kids all screamed themselves hoarse. It disappeared heading South but by then we were all totally hyper. So we went and tarted up his garden for his return. The final touch being filling up an old hip bath he is renovating with water and floating some bath toys in it. The notice on the tied up gate read - 'sorry we missed you but we had a great party....'

We could hear the shriek when he returned but the laugh was on us...the flight had been cancelled due to low cloud at airfield! So who the hell had we been waving at? Goodness knows but out there somewhere is a very bemused pilot who could not have failed to notice a little band of hysterical savages on a wooded hillside in South Shropshire....oooooops!

Just a normal sort of weekend in the country...............it was the sun wot did it!

Familiarity breeds contempt?

We have been on holiday this week, it has been one of those 'Ourgate' holidays, if anyone asks where we've been..... it's the one at the bottom of our garden. One hundred and one jobs needed doing, all those things like calling into the bank instead of using a hot line to Delhi, getting shoes repaired, MOT the car, buy new dogproof fencing...to stop the errant lab Skye taking herself off for a walk ..alone. WALLPAPERING the bathroom ...done it at last!!

However it has not been a week without its moments, we started out with the Steam Rally on August Bank Holiday Monday...tick the calendar for next year. Tuesday was spent with youngest persuading him to complete part of his geography project a survey. We sat in a good spot in the car, him counting cars, me reading Purse Barley, a lovely book written by a farmers wife throughout the seasons on a farm in Devon. We spent most of the day in this fashion - just the car parks altered.

Wednesday found us in Bishops Castle on errands, but at the same time having a mooch around all the little alleyways that take short cuts across the town. We sat under an apple tree up on the castle ruins and looked down on the town as the Lords and Ladies had done before us ...sorry Bishops and ....em ...well whovever sat there with Bishops!

Thursday the weather started to resemble summer and when we had finished hum drum tasks we decided to use our NT cards and go to the closest property to us which is Attingham Park. I have been past the entrance a million times, I have watched the deer from the old road that runs alongside the deer park, but I had never been through the gates, neither had N! When we parked and walked into the first quadrangle I was open mouthed, by the time we had been round the mansion, the beautiful rooms, the dining room with its gold table settings and 17th C carpet, and the huge Victorian kitchen I was asking why hadn't we been before? How silly is that ? To live on the doorstep and not to realise what is there. Even then we had not allowed ourselves enough time and had to leave without seeing the grounds, undertaking the four mile stroll through the woods and the the deer park or the farm....

Friday - well ..if I wrote it you wouldn't believe it, so other than to say there were other bloggers involved, Mountainear, ElizabethM, Bodran, LawyerLady and KittyB and the scene was North Wales, of rolling hillsides, distant mountains, little towns with quirky shops, gardens and cakes...of course there was cake.This was a purple people on the move day ...cakes are part of it! ALWAYS! I shall just say the Bodran's shop is gorgeous, as are the clothes in it. The hired help was a bit suspect though..I watched as he wrapped my purchase, a beautiful soft jumper in a faded pink...well he would pass muster in any fish and chip shop in North Wales! Bless him, the long suffering 'Colon' I think he should get an award of some sort. I shall leave it there.......and go off into another fit of giggles as I see Bodran's face looking at her mop bucket...or rather what remained of her mop bucket...........

Right... Saturday...sleeves rolled up and ready for action ..wallpapered the bathroom ...start to finish 3 hours flat! N had gone to the shoot to receive new pheasants ...but they never arrived ...he stood around and waited for three hours ..when he came back ...job done! So off we went back to Attingham Park to 'do' the rest......

We met some of the herd of Longhorn cattle on the drive ...they are simply beautiful. Jersey cattle graze on the other side. Belted galloways in another paddock and a lovely big Highland cow roaming around the grassy walkways like a big happy dog. We set out on the long walk of the grounds - 4 miles, through mature woods, where you are welcome to let your dogs run free...Oh yes you can! (Well perhaps they might draw the line at Bodran with her pack of hounds)

The walled garden was our first stop ...the temperature inside was noticeably higher than outside. The walled garden is being brought back into cultivation and this year there has been one quarter cultivated and it is beautiful, with glossy vegetables and cutting flowers and of course huge sunflowers. The orchard just outside is full of heavily laden fruit trees.

We found a suspension bridge over the river, and stood an watched the fish below us jumping in the sun. The deer lay in the shade of the huge oak trees in the real summer sun. We could see them stretched out enjoying a rest in the heat of the day. There are 180 fallow deer at Attingham and it is an old established herd.

The Ice house was refurbished and opened last year and it was a joy to go down into the brick lined underground cavern where ice had been stored for use at the big house. Ice would have been collected off the pools and lakes in the winter and stored for as long as possible in such underground stores.

Back in the main grounds I was soon lost in the shelves of the second hand book store, the tables of plants, fruit and veg from the walled garden, all organic of course.

On we went to Home Farm to watch the milking in progress. Seven pea hens each with two or three chicks wandered around the stack yard ...as did, geese, muscovy ducks, a peculiar looking Canada goose, guinea fowl, chickens, a litter of farm kittens hung round the dairy door. Black piglets vied for our attention in old fashioned brick pig sties. Very large lop eared rabbits had the run of a long enclosure at the side of the childrens area. I peeped into a building labelled the slaughter house and left it quite quickly, there were some gruesome tools in there. Another little stable building held budgies and parakeets.

We left as the evening shadows lengthened, both wondering how we had never found all this before. Once home we had to hear how first driving lesson had gone for the 'baby' of the family and it was off to pick blackberries before dusk fell.

Full steam Ahead!! Toot! Toot!

When he said 'Shall we go to the Steam Rally?' I silently screamed 'Nooooooooooooo!' The very thought of wandering aimlessly around trying to look interested at all those little funny engines phut phutting away while their prould owners in oily boilersuits and dirty faces wave oil cans around just left me cold. The choice was scant ...it was that, the Game Fair at Newport or Welshpool Market ....he sure knows how to treat a girl to a day out... Seeing as how our last adventure to a Game Fair had led us to a Dog Show I plumped for the Steam Rally, Welshpool market did not even get near the starting blocks. Actually looking at the heavy grey sky my reasoning was based on ..what is nearest to home when we are soaked to the skin.

Thinking back, probably the last time I had been to this event was when it was under the title of Bishops Castle Traction Engine rally, that was at least 30 years ago ...definitely pre children, mmm chinks of my past open like shutters on a window ...I would have been in uniform, St John's Ambulance ...all grey dress and black tights. There is a photo somewhere. My friend and I were chatted up by two nice young policemen....in leather .....swoon.

When the boys were younger there was not enough spare cash to take us all to such an event on a Bank Holiday Monday but when the Rally was still at Bishops Castle most of the engines would trundle past our house on their way home. I would sit the boys on the wall with a packet of crisps and a drink to watch the engines pass. They waved their little hands off and in return the engine would hoot...kept them absorbed for hours.

Anyway enough of reminiscing back to Monday .....yes there were the lines of phut puhutting static engines ....err... why? What are they actually doing that deserves prizes? All the owners were there on camp chairs looking steadfastly at their prize phut phutting machines and they all look bored to death. Oh well... each to their own and I suppose they wouldn't like a sheep sale.

Then as we ventured further in to the show field I began to see so much more ...rows and rows of trade stands ...many of them selling bits of metal, spanners and rusty bolts but there were a few jewels in the crown. I found an antique stall that had tiny bird boxes, for the canaries that coal miners would take down into the seams to check for gas. One was so ornate with a little drinking bowl and feed dish. I have never seen one before, there was no necessity to take canaries down lead mines because there are no bad gases in lead mines.

I found an exhibition of old prams, I'm sure I had a doll's pram just like the one at the front. I bet that my grandson's expensive all folding gimmicky effort will not last long enough to appear in an exhibition!

Working exhibitions included a threshing box, I was mesmerized. I have seen threshing boxes in various states of disrepair around the countryside but have never seen one in action. All those belts and pulleys whirring away separating the grain from the chaff from the straw, and the hessian sacks filling up at the rear.

A stone crushing exhibition had been set up by Shropshire Mines Trust, it was like one of those toys the boys had that delivered ball bearings around a track into little tipper trucks. I could have watched it all day.

Huge tree trunks were slowly being sliced by a steam engine operating a saw bench.

Straw cutters and grain mills filled in the spaces between each exhibition.

For more action we went into the working field .....a field of corn had been left for the event. There was horse led reaping, a gorgeous team of three dappled grey working horses were led by another with the reaping machine behind throwing out stooks ready for collection for the threshing machine. Once the area was cut, it was then ploughed, whether it was more beautiful horses harnessed to a plough or old tractors dragging fearsome looking implements through the soil the whole area was alive with droning engines. We stopped to watch an area of ploughing that involved a large steam engine at either end of the field with a crab like construction going between them on huge iron hawsers that did the cultivation.

On top of all that we walked the lines of beautifully maintained vintage cars, bicycles, motor bikes, lorries and coaches and remembered going to school on a bus just like that. A fairground full of steam engine music with golden galloping horses, swinging boats and dancing puppets...

Next year I'm going for a whole day - honest!

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.......