Out on the wiley, windy moors…
We’d roll and fall in green
I couldn’t resist one more romp on the moors before the heather lost it’s glow. It was a day of low cloud and mist as we clambered up the hillside, startling sheep. A long pause on the tops, to get our breath back, and on past the boulders.
Then plunging back down… and up again! Alarm bells sounded when I saw the ford sign. Would the water be high? But I needn’t have worried.
The last slog back up the hill, though, was almost a step too far. Good thing I was surrounded by beauty, somewhere along the Esk Valley Way.
Hope you fill your Saturday with beauty. Debbie usually does! Why not go and join her with six words?
Another Saturday ballroom blitz of beauty!
That first photo has a special significance for me. It brings back memories of ‘home’ and my mother’s garden. Mam loved her roses and took great pride in her ‘Blue Moon’ and ‘Picadilly’. They were planted in squares between concrete slabs. Not the most elegant of arrangements, but husband Joe was a ‘veg’ man. The bulk of the garden was given over to his onions and king size cabbages, and a small greenhouse that produced more than its share of tomatoes. One concession Joe did make was to chrysanthemums and dahlias. I don’t know why they appealed so much. I haven’t seen a plum and white ‘pom-pom’ dahlia like this one for the longest time! And then those rain-ravaged ones.
My friend Sue has a bit of a penchant for roses of the tattered and torn variety, so I’ve been keeping an eye on these on my hearth. They’re not quite dejected enough for Sue yet! The wild ones are lovely too, aren’t they?
That’s my Seven for this week. Eek- 9 more to go till the end of September! Blame Becky for starting us off with Square in September. I’m sure she won’t mind this week’s ‘rebel’. The Boston Ivy climbing my wall is telling me Autumn’s well on it’s way.
Happy Saturday to you all! Don’t forget to pop along and share six words with Debbie.
Seven on Saturday, or just six?
The last one’s a bit of a tease but I know you like cake! I glean my flower shots from all sorts of places- our own garden, the odd bouquet, and often from Open Gardens on a Sunday afternoon. One Sunday there was a raffle for the cake above. I didn’t win, but I got the shot.
The current extravaganza of flowers is Becky’s fault. She started me off with Square in September, I responded with 7 , and now I can’t seem to stop! Join in, if you like, but don’t forget to share six words with Debbie. And have a great weekend!
The night the lights went out!
Fortunately we had a candle or two. After we’d opened the wine and found batteries for the old radio, I started to play.
Isn’t candlelight pretty? Wishing you all a great weekend. Which 6 words will you be sharing with Debbie?
Dilly dally in the Welsh Borders
Heading home from Shropshire, we had a little time to kill before Stokesay Castle opened for the day. What else to do but dilly dally? I’m not entirely certain where the Welsh borders begin and end, but heading west from Church Stretton we can’t have been far away. I was delighted with colourful and quirky Bishop’s Castle, a centre for arts and crafts, and just one and a half miles from the border. I did go looking for the castle, built in 1087, but discovered afterwards that when it deteriorated in the 1700s it was flattened to make a bowling green!
I was luckier in tiny Clun where the ruins of a Norman castle still linger soulfully on a hill, only disturbed from slumber when the May fair comes to town. Clun was on the site of the historic drove road, where flocks and herds were driven from Wales to the markets of the Midlands and London. It amused me to find that at the time of the Norman Conquest, Clun formed part of the lands of Eadric the Wild. His wildness did him no good because his lands were confiscated when he led a revolt against King William 1.
To reach the castle we crossed over the 14th century packhorse bridge, and then on to lovely Stokesay. The ochre-coloured buildings are joyful, aren’t they? I hope you have a happy weekend, full of warmth and colour, but first, steer clear of troubled waters with Debbie. Share six words?
Which dessert did we each choose?
Chocolate and almond brownie or creme brulé with berry coulis? Which one do you think Tish would choose? To protect the innocent I kept my camera in my handbag throughout our meeting, but I really couldn’t resist sharing our dessert.
I had expected to be nervous meeting Tish Farrell, but somehow there wasn’t time for nerves. Before I knew it I’d scurried down the steps and into her arms. She and husband Graham had kindly suggested picking us up from our apartment to go out for supper and, after a full-on day, we were almost in danger of being late!
Many of you will know Tish from her writings “on the Edge”. Wenlock Edge, in lovely Shropshire, to be precise, where she tends her garden and allotment with huge enthusiasm, in the minutes purloined from writing. With gently self deprecating humour, she shares a slice of her life and a little Monday Magic. Her skill as a raconteur and respect for our world combine in the telling of The Mysterious Stiperstones. But when Tish writes about her time spent in Africa the whole page lights up- The Way We Were~More from the Kenya Diary. It’s a passion shared with her husband.
Because we were a foursome talk was mostly of Much Wenlock and its beautiful surrounds. Tales of village life were delivered with a twinkle of fun. Conversation was easy. The food was good. Graham became an honorary blogger for a little while, and we were enveloped in the warmth of good companionship. They would make lovely neighbours, and I found the perfect timbered cottage nearby.
Did you guess which sweet Tish had? I forgot to tell you that we were in The Green Dragon, in Little Stretton, and very nice it was too. Debbie’s a little short on words for Six Word Saturday this week. I must have borrowed them!
In memory of a lovely lady
It’s hard to post today. My head is full of thoughts, but I don’t want to upset the family or share things that are not mine to share.
My friend Vron was never happier than when she had her family around her. I never knew her as the powerhouse she was, before an aneursym 18 years ago left her partially disabled, but I’ve heard the stories and seen photographs. To me she was a kind and gentle soul, who accepted her situation with grace and without any trace of bitterness, From the moment I stepped into her household, in my capacity as a carer, I was accepted as a member of the family, and she became very special to me.
Vron was surrounded by love. They say you reap what you sew, and that was never truer. Her beloved husband took on the role that she could no longer manage and she put her whole faith and trust in him. She adored her two girls and her son, and the grandchildren, as one rapidly followed the other. All were very precious to her. Brothers and sisters were held close to her heart.
Whenever there was a cause for celebration, this family knew how to celebrate. They put their heart and soul into it. The last time I saw them all together was for a special birthday last November. Family and friends joined them and the laughter and memories flowed. Hard to believe that I will never again join Vron at another family gathering. I know she’ll be there in spirit. Vron, we will always miss your lovely smile. It was a privilege to know you. God bless! Rest in peace.
For Six Word Saturday. Share Debbie’s wonderful perspective.