Still Waters

With Mr Glis working away and the weather being warm and dry, during the last couple of weeks I’ve taken the opportunity to get in  several evening walks in the Lakes.  But, the beauty of the summer evenings can be spoiled as I attract the unwelcome attentions of midgie beasties without any effort.  Although liberal applications of “skin so soft” seem to keep them at bay, they can still find the one place I’ve missed with it. But, midgies aside, it’s been delightful to wander along the lake shores and enjoy the evening sunlight reflecting off the still, lake waters.

A bad week for The Archers

As the majority of my literary soiree companions are also avid Archers listeners, it was somewhat inevitable that our midsummer poetry evening conversations would touch on recent story-lines.  Along with many other listeners we were all bemoaning the recent “sensationalisation” of the programme.  It was clear that our issues were with the huge personality re-writes of main characters, rather than the plots.  Yes, Tony was always moany but not to the extent that he’s become and Lizzy and Roy would simply NEVER have had a teenage tumble in a tent. And as for Rob.....words fail me.  Scripties MUST DO BETTER

Ironing

Ironing is the work of the devil (cue Mum revolving in her grave) and is a task I undertake reluctantly.  But with Mr Glis working on something that requires a smarter appearance than his normal look, I’ve had to iron shirts for the last few weeks and it’s been SUCH a mind-numbing chore, confirming my view. And before any one suggests he does his own, I’m the first to admit we employ a fair division of labour in our family and I’ve no desire to cut the grass on a regular basis either. Roll on his return to normal work!

Public Art

I hugely approve of public art , be it street sculptures, community paintings or quirky celebrations of local events. And geocaching often takes you to places where some superb examples can be found. During my visit to Tyneside earlier this week, I had some free time between conference sessions so I raced across the Tyne Bridge on my way to Grainger Street in search of brass plaques set into the pavement.  What really appeals to me is that every day, thousands of people unknowingly walk over the  plaques which celebrate  random, everyday events that happen on any busy high street!

 

Ancient byways

Whenever I’m walking in the hills, especially on the ancient tracks that link  historic settlements, I often find  myself reflecting on those who have “passed this way” before. And Sunday was no different, as we headed up Sticks Pass, the saddle between Glenridding and  Thirlmere. Although it was a glorious day, the route was comparatively quiet so it wasn’t difficult to admire the timeless views across to Scafell and Gable, to Helvellyn, Skiddaw and High Street,  imagining  the pedlars and  farmers of yesteryear, striding across the lonely fells, accompanied by birdsong, identified by the tools and wares of their trades

What's a little Weather between valleys?

What a difference a valley makes.  Last Sunday, we left Carlisle basking in a rosy glow of sunshine  reflecting off its red sandstone walls to begin a walk from Kirkstone Pass with R and C. But, as we reached the top of Kirkstone, we found ourselves in thick mist, howling winds and horizontal rain.  As a friend commentated, we wimped out,  having no desire to trudge across slippery screes without a view to brighten our experience. Fast forward an hour later and we found ourselves in rather better weather on the top of Walla Crag at the end of Borrowdale

Insomnia and the beauty of the dawn

Insomnia isn’t something I’ve conquered, despite trying every known home-grown remedy!  Rarely do I sleep for more than 5 hours in a single block, waking with an instinct at the heart of my natural body rhythm.  Lying awake in those early hours of the morning can be tough in the dead of winter, even though it’s warm in bed and the night is empty, but in summer it’s so much worse.  Birds rejoice in the dawn as daylight creeps in under the blinds. But even in my sorry wakefulness, I try to appreciate the magnificent beauty of the new day

Dawn over York