What happened to the pizza??

For several weeks now, as Michael and I have been unable to go out for a Sunday meal, he’s often ordered pizzas for us on his day off work, delivered from a local takeaway. The bank holiday Monday earlier this week was his day off after finishing a night shift – he would be asleep for much of the day so when he was going to work on Sunday evening I asked him if he wanted me to cook anything for tea on Monday, to which he replied that he would order pizzas for us. Now I don’t particularly enjoy cooking at the best of times and the less I do of it the better I like it so pizzas for tea sounded good.
So with the weather being glorious on Monday I took Poppie and went out for most of the day to a place I hadn’t been to for about eight years. I had a lovely day and by the time I was ready for coming home I was really looking forward to my pizza. It was gone 6pm by the time I got back, Michael wasn’t in so I assumed that he’d gone down to Asda to get something to take to work for his lunch the following day. He came in not long afterwards and he had indeed been to Asda; his first words were “I’ve got you something for your tea Mum” and delving into his bag he presented me with….a sausage roll!! Thanks Michael, that’s just what I really wanted!

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What I was looking forward to…
Sausage-Roll[1]
And what I actually got (both photos from the Internet)

Needless to say, having spent most of the afternoon looking forward to a ham and pineapple pizza a sausage roll was a bit of a let down so I just had to ask – “What happened to the pizza we were supposed to be having?” and got the reply “Oh, I got myself some chicken pieces instead”. Okay, fine – so I put half a can of baked beans with the sausage roll and ended up with quite a reasonable meal.
Thinking about it afterwards though I just had to laugh. Michael has often surprised and amused me over the years with some of the things he’s done and the sausage roll was the latest, though as there’s such a vast difference between that and a pizza it makes me wonder which way his brain was working when he thought of it!

 

Barrow Bridge and Brownstones Quarry

Just three weeks after my first visit of the year to Barrow Bridge I was back again, this time to combine another circular walk with some photos of various features of the village for another future blog post. In such a short space of time the trees, hedges, and flowers in various gardens seemed to have suddenly exploded into life and in the early afternoon sunshine everywhere looked exceptionally bright and colourful.
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Beyond the edge of Moss Bank Park and just before the prettiest part of the village a bus turn around lies on the far side of Dean Brook, with a path running parallel to the stream; in spite of my many visits to the village over the years I’d never been along there so this time I was going to explore. The path took me first into a small meadow surrounded by trees then into a woodland area and through the trees, on the far side of the stream, I could see part of what I knew to be Victoria Lake.
The flow of the stream wasn’t too great at that point and I could see that someone at some time had made a crossing point from a few large stones placed in the very narrowest part so hoping that I wouldn’t slip and end up with wet feet I stepped down the bank and picked my way carefully across towards the lake – Poppie of course paddled across quite easily.
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Another path ran close to the lakeside, with gaps in the trees and shrubs where I could see the lake itself; several geese and ducks seemed to be in residence and through the trees across the water I could see the top third of Barrow Bridge chimney. At the far end of the lake the path split into two and as I could hear what sounded like a waterfall ahead and to the left I went that way first.
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After a few yards the path became narrower and ended in a moss-covered stone wall at ground level. A few feet below the wall the stream had left its natural river bed and was flowing down the centre of a wide cobbled channel into a tree shaded pool; the ground around the edge of the pool looked to be quite boggy so not wanting to get muddy I just took a couple of shots then retraced my steps back to the lake.
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The path on the right took me round the end of Victoria lake to a much smaller lake, this was the one I could just see part of by looking over the garden wall of one of the houses on the road past the park. Floating in the water was a cute little duck house and a few Canada geese were gathered by the waterside. Wild garlic grew along both sides of the path and a notice fastened to a tree told me I could go no farther as this was a wildlife area; I was almost in someone’s back garden anyway so with a couple of shots taken I made my way back round the lakes, across the stream and back towards the village.

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Walking past the first cottages on the right of the village road I was struck again by how quickly things had come into life and how pretty these particular gardens looked compared to when I took my photo of them three weeks before. These must be my favourite cottages and gardens in the village and I can never resist taking a shot of them whenever I walk past.
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At the end of the road I walked a short distance along by the stream and took the steep climb up ’63 steps’. At the top of the steps a tree shaded path led to a more open area which in turn took me into open countryside where I had a choice of left or right. Knowing where I would get to if I went left I chose right and eventually came to a gate where the path narrowed and ran between a fence on one side and trees on the other, with another gate at the far end which took me into the little cul-de-sac of cottages where I’d photographed the bright tulips three weeks before.
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Copy of Local area 2018 258
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Out on the road, round the double bend and up the long incline I came to the cottages of Old Colliers Row; it was the day after the 75th anniversary of VE Day and the wall alongside the road was still sporting a celebratory long string of flags and bunting. Close to the cottages was Brownstones Quarry, somewhere I didn’t know about until it was mentioned in a comment on a previous blog post, so taking a look round the place was really the main purpose of my walk.
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Trying to get into the quarry was easier said than done though; the path which had been suggested to me was so overgrown it was difficult to even see it so not wanting to risk possibly falling down a hidden steep drop I needed to find another way in. Up the lane behind the cottages I did find another path and though that was also quite overgrown in places it wasn’t as bad as the first path and eventually I saw part of a quarry face ahead of me. As far as quarries go it wasn’t a bad place; nowhere near as big as Wilton Quarry closer to home but quite pleasant and there was even a small rather overgrown pond at one end.
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It didn’t take me long to get a few photos and once I’d seen all there was to see I made my way back towards the lane, though it wasn’t without incident – with the weather being very warm I was wearing cycling shorts and at one point I was attacked by a strand from a low growing bramble which left two vicious scratches across the back of my leg.
Not far from the end of the path a pheasant suddenly shot out of the long grass, ran ahead of me and disappeared; ignoring the scratches I’d just sustained, and with Poppie in ‘sniffer dog’ mode, we tracked it to a field across the lane and I managed to snatch a quick photo of it before it flew off and disappeared completely.  Also in the field were several horses with a grey one being the nearest to me, but no matter how much I called it didn’t seem interested and kept its back to me although one of its companions ambled over and obligingly posed for a photo.
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Back on the road I walked along to the next row of cottages and just like three weeks previously I took the lane leading back down to Barrow Bridge village. In spite of the clouds which had appeared during my walk it was a very clear afternoon and from the top of the lane I had a great view across the fields, past Barrow Bridge chimney and right over and beyond Manchester city centre.
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Down in the village I took another couple of photos for the blog post I was thinking of writing then made my way back home by the shortest route. It had been another good walk and I’d discovered two more places I hadn’t been to before but now, with the scratches on my leg finally treated and Poppie curled up in her bed, it was time to relax while I thought about where I was going to go next time.

 

Blame it on the sunshine

Following on from my post recounting the occasion when I mistakenly sent a text message to Michael instead of someone I work with, it’s taken me 18 months to make near enough the same mistake again but this time I’ve surpassed myself.
On Tuesday evening Michael came in from work and presented me with a pack of strawberries which he’d picked up in Asda on his way home; I didn’t want any straight away so I sliced them into a bowl with a bit of sugar and left them in the fridge overnight with the intention of having some with cream on Wednesday after I got back from my dog walk. With plenty for two of us I sent Michael a text while I was out on my long walk at lunch time that day – “Do you want me to save you some strawberries, there’s enough for both of us”.
Now the very nature of Michael’s job means that he can’t have or use his phone while he’s working so I didn’t expect a reply straight away as he wouldn’t see the message until he was on a break, however I’d had no reply by 5pm so I decided to check my own phone to make sure I’d actually sent the message and not deleted it by accident. Yes, I’d definitely sent the text at 12.58pm – to the boss at my evening job who is also called Michael. No wonder I hadn’t had a reply from my son! Cue a fit of giggles, made worse by the thought that the boss’s wife could possibly be wondering why a strange woman was asking him if he wanted some strawberries. Of course it made Michael laugh when he came home later and I told him what I’d done – and as it turned out, he didn’t want any strawberries anyway.
So yesterday I was at my evening job when I needed to ring Neil, the works manager, to check on a security issue. His phone was answered by a woman who I assumed was his wife, and the conversation went like this – “Hi, can I speak to Neil please?” “Sorry, who is this?” “It’s Eunice, cleaner at xxxx” “Oh, hello Eunice, it’s nice to hear from you, how are you?” Coming from a woman who I’d never met or spoken to and who probably didn’t even know who I am this seemed very strange indeed, though the voice seemed familiar and I instantly realised – I hadn’t phoned Neil at all, I’d phoned Nellie, Michael’s aunt over in Ireland! Cue another fit of giggles, during which I managed to apologise to Nellie and tell her I’d phone her back later on, then once I’d stopped laughing I phoned Neil and dealt with the security issue.
I really can’t believe that I could make almost the same silly mistake twice in 24 hours and I’m sure Michael must think I’ve lost the plot, but before the men in white coats come to carry me off to the nearest padded cell I can only say in my defence that in both cases I was outside and the bright sunshine obviously made my phone screen hard to read. So note to self – in future, make sure you’re in the shade before you text or ring someone!

 

Spring comes to the Jumbles

My Monday walk this time was done in April a week after my last Monday walk and just three days after the quarry walk – with the continuing good weather I’ve been averaging three long walks every week. The first part of the walk was a reverse of last week’s  – through the avenues, down the lane past the stables where I once worked, through the woodland and up the steep path to the farm, then once I reached the main road a short distance along and under a railway bridge took me to the long and very pleasant semi-rural lane leading to the Jumbles reservoir.
The name Jumbles first appeared in the 19th century and is a variation of the word ‘dumbles’, a northern term for a ravine-like valley with wooded sides where a fast flowing stream tumbles down. At the north end of the reservoir is the old quarry, flooded when the reservoir was constructed in the late 1960s, and beyond it there is indeed a narrow wooded valley with a stream flowing through it and into the quarry.
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About halfway along the lane a gate on the right led to a path which took me down to Ousel Nest Meadows. Ousel is the old English name for the blackbird and it’s possible that in the past its cousin the Ring Ousel may have nested in the area, giving the meadows their name. As I walked towards the bottom of the meadow a flash of white caught my eye as a bird took off from somewhere and landed in a tree over on my left; I couldn’t tell what sort of bird it was as it was so far in the tree I could hardly see it so I pointed the camera, zoomed in and hoped for the best. It turned out to be a jay, quite a cute looking little thing and the first one I’ve ever actually seen.
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At the bottom of the meadow the path turned to the right, going steadily downhill until I came to the first of four bridges. This took me across Bradshaw Brook past the reservoir outflow and the steep bank of the dam and at the far side a long flight of steep steps and a winding path on their right went up to the top of the hillside.
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After crossing the bridge on previous occasions I’ve always gone straight up the steps but this time I decided to take the slightly easier way up the hill and use the winding path, and I was rewarded by discovering something I never knew was there. Just off the second bend in the path was a small overgrown quarry which wasn’t visible from the steps; a short narrow path led into it so I just had to take a look.
It wasn’t a big place and the quarry faces weren’t very high. Several parts had trees growing straight out of them and at one point I could hear running water; it was coming from deep within one of the quarry faces so there must have been an underground stream running through and down to the brook. It was a strange little place and it was nice to have found it but I didn’t really want to linger too long.
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Leaving the quarry behind I continued up the winding path to the top of the hill and came out at the car park. This was a place which, even on a weekday, would usually have several cars parked there so it seemed strange to see it empty and deserted.
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At the far side of the car park was the closed up café and information centre with the outside picnic benches just as deserted as the car park itself. Directly across the water were a bungalow and big house, both with gardens which had been landscaped by my partner several years ago. Back then the owners of the bungalow, who I knew very well, also owned the reservoir dam and I would sometimes take a short cut across it if I didn’t want to walk all the way round.
With the continuing dry sunny weather the level of the reservoir was lower than usual and a bit farther on from the café I came across a couple of places where I could leave the path and go down to small stony beaches by the water’s edge to get some photos, shots which I wouldn’t normally be able to get.

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A few yards farther on from the second beach a concrete bridge spanned a small offshoot to the main reservoir and set on the grass just off the far end of the bridge was a picnic bench with access down to another small beach just behind it.
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Back on the path and through a tree shaded area I passed the part of the reservoir designated as a wildlife area; with the water level being low it was possible to see the natural barrier which kept it separate from the rest of the reservoir, and just across the water and set sideways on was a row of four stone cottages with attractive gardens.
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The reservoir narrowed there and up ahead on the other side I could see something red and yellow partly obscured by foliage – I couldn’t tell what it was but I didn’t remember seeing it before. Soon I came to the bridge near the old quarry but instead of crossing over I took the path past the quarry and along the riverside until I came to a waterfall, though I resisted the temptation to explore farther and returned to the bridge.
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At the far side of the bridge I discovered what the red and yellow thing was – a recently installed board with a water safety device, though looking at the instructions to access it and use it made me think that whoever needed to be saved could possibly have drowned before it could be of any use.
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From the bridge the path wound its way through another tree shaded area and came out close to a small private fishing lake and the stone cottages, with a small parking area, concrete slipway and a pleasant picnic/fishing area by the waterside. Several ducks were sunning themselves in the picnic area though all but one took off into the water as soon as they saw Poppie. Along with the usual mallards and swans was one white duck with red eyes and a very odd shaped head, I hadn’t a clue what it was but later information told me it was a Muscovy duck.
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Past the picnic area the fourth and last bridge took me over a narrow creek with the path leading past the grounds of Jumbles Sailing Club and through another tree shaded area with more places where I could get down to the water’s edge and take another few photos.
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Back through the trees for a short distance and the path veered away from the reservoir, opening out and running between hedges on one side and the high fence and stone wall enclosing the gardens of the big house I could see from across the water. Near the end of the path was a very attractive timber-built barn erected only within the last few years; it replaced a huge and ugly green corrugated metal barn where my partner and I used to keep and work on our vintage tractors. I don’t know what the new place is used for but it looks much nicer than the old one.
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Just past the barn the path came out onto the lane and I was heading back in the direction of the main road, and just before the gate leading to Ousel Nest Meadows I spotted some lovely bright flowers in the grounds of one of the three large Ousel’s Nest houses. Not far from the end of the lane another lane joined it on the right and in the small triangle between the two was a tree surrounded by a hotch-potch of colourful flowers and foliage worth a couple of shots.
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Those were to be my last photos of the walk; it had been a long one this time, 7.2 miles from home and back. It was nice to see the Jumbles area coming alive in the fine spring sunshine, I’d got some good photos and even found somewhere I didn’t know existed, so my afternoon had been very enjoyable and worthwhile.

 

A spring walk through Wilton Quarry

Okay, I know it’s not Monday but the continuing good weather means I’ve got a backlog of recent local walks to catch up on so I thought I’d post an extra one or two. Today’s circular walk, done just three weeks ago, takes in Wilton Quarry, a mile or so up the road from home and a convenient place for a dog walk if I don’t want to go too far. The narrow path from the main road into the quarry is usually quite wet but thankfully now it’s completely dry so I didn’t have to pick my way carefully along to avoid getting wet feet.
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About halfway through the quarry and several feet up from ground level was the picnic area presumably made by climbers, and on the rock face which formed the back wall were five brass memorial plaques; these had only appeared sometime last year so the idea of a memorial wall seemed to be relatively new.
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Past the picnic area the narrow path climbed steeply up to a plateau and from a hillock at one side I got some good views over the main road and the nearby countryside and moorland; standing there it almost felt like I was on top of the world.
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Walking up through the quarry always gives me a strange sense of distance; the path into there is only a couple of hundred yards from the pub/restaurant along the main road though walking through the quarry itself and climbing up to the higher levels seems to be quite a distance, but even near the top I was still only overlooking the pub car park so it isn’t really as far as it feels.
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Close to the top I came across a large stone seat shaped like an armchair and built in memory of a young woman who presumably loved the view from that particular spot; I don’t know how long it’s been there but strangely I’ve never noticed it before. There was a poem on the plaque which read “Fellow traveller, busty wench, Rest awhile on Aileen’s bench” – I wasn’t aware that ‘busty wenches’ existed these days but the view from the seat was good.  Not far from there the path came out close to the bad bend on the road across the lower slopes of Smithills moors; the road was deserted and as I walked along to the closed off car park I was passed only by a couple of cyclists and a jogger.
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From the car park a path which I’ve taken several times before led me down through a couple of fields and past the edge of Horrocks Wood; with no-one else around and just the sound of various birds in the trees it was really peaceful and I felt like I could have been the only person on the planet.
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Just off the path I found a single clump of dandelions; now while in a garden they may be classed as weeds, here in the countryside they were wild flowers and their colour was so vibrant and intense I just had to get a shot of them. The path eventually joined a second path coming from the right and in the triangle of land between the two was the pyramid shaped stone which I’ve previously seen surrounded by daffodils – and even now I still don’t know what it’s supposed to be or why it’s there.
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From there the path took me down towards the nearby farm and the field where I saw the deer and the sheep just ten days previously, though this time there was no sign of any of them. Through the farm yard and the hamlet of cottages to the lane running past my boss’s house, where I took a quick snap of his side garden from over the low wall, then I was back on the main road not far from the path into the quarry.
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From there it was just a 15-minute walk back down the hill to home. That had been my first visit to the quarry this year and as the rhododendrons will soon be in bloom and the place will gain a bit more colour it won’t be too long before Poppie and I take another walk up there.

Another local Monday walk

My Monday walk this week was done in April just four days after the walk I featured last week and the first part is almost exactly the same. Down the lane between the two main roads, across the triangle of green space, up the minor road on its right and down the steep cobbled lane to the bridge over Eagley Brook, where I stopped to count the ducks again – still no sign of the big Cayuga duck – before taking a different route from the previous walk.
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A little way up the road from the bridge was the Spread Eagle pub; I’ve never been in there and have no intention of ever doing so but I took a photo of the sign just because I liked it. A bit farther on, and separated from the pavement by a low stone wall topped with iron railings, was a small but very pretty private garden full of bright tulips; it wasn’t attached to a house, it was just a small space cultivated from a patch of overgrown land but there was a gate in the centre of the railings so presumably it belonged to one of the cottages across the road. At the side of the end cottage a short rough track took me to the 42 wide shallow steps of Little Brow which led through a wooded area to a pleasant residential avenue behind a main road.
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Quarter of a mile of road walking brought me to a short driveway leading to a farm entrance and an overgrown area of land where a garden centre once stood and I was now on part of the route I use when walking home from my morning job. Past the farmhouse a gate took me to a long and steep woodland path with the land levelling out at the bottom and the path running alongside the river.

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Looking back
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Reaching the bridge I turned left and climbed the rough path halfway up the hillside then walked along to the lake hidden in the trees. Although the trees themselves were still quite bare the lake looked a lot more attractive with the sunshine and blue sky than it did when I was previously there on a dull day last November.
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Back down by the bridge I noticed a very narrow path running just a few feet above the river. I wasn’t sure if it led to anywhere as the woodland was very dense on that side of the river but I went along just far enough to get a photo of the bridge as an alternative to the ones I’ve previously taken on the other side, then with a shot taken from the bridge itself I crossed to what I call the ‘home’ side of the river. The path on that side brought me out at the bottom of a cobbled lane and not far up was the huge oak tree at the corner of the drive leading down to the stables where I used to work. Six days a week and twice a day for nine years I saw that tree in all its forms, even with bare branches it was a lovely tree but I always liked it when it came into leaf in the springtime.
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The top of the lane brought me onto a large modern housing estate – I can remember back to my teens when most of it was open land – and from there it was all road walking until I got back home though I did see some lovely flowers in various gardens along the way, and on one garden wall I found a cute little dog ornament. There was a hedgehog too, and although most of the paint had come off both of them it was the hedgehog which looked a bit worse for wear.

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Bank Top community garden
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Back home Poppie curled up in her bed and for me it was time to relax with coffee and cake. After having so much rain over the autumn and winter months I really appreciated this continuing good weather, and as I downloaded my day’s photos to the pc I was already deciding where my next walk would take me if it stayed nice.

 

The moon in an hour

Sitting here at the pc last night and thinking about the post I intended writing for today I just happened to glance out of the window and notice the moon partially covered by an attractive cloud formation.  It was worth a couple of photos but by the time I’d grabbed the camera and changed the setting the moment had gone, however with the clouds constantly changing I decided to take a series of shots over the space of an hour just to see if the camera could produce anything reasonable.
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10pm
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10.01pm
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10.02pm
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10.05pm
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10.06pm – different camera setting
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10.07pm
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10.09pm
It clouded over properly after that and stayed cloudy for a while so I couldn’t see the moon at all, however the clouds eventually started to disperse and I managed to get a few more shots before my self-allotted hour was up.
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10.50pm – another camera setting
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10.54pm
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10.56pm
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11pm
Admittedly the quality of some of these shots isn’t the greatest but unfortunately I’m not lucky enough to possess an expensive state-of-the-art DSLR with a huge powerful lens. Anyway, I’m not in the least bit interested in astronomy in any way, shape or form, these shots were really just an experiment and a way of passing some time while I got my head round the post I was going to write – which no longer applies as these shots have now become that very post.

 

Flowers and fishing lakes

My local Monday walk this week was done during the gloriously sunny Easter weekend, and though most big trees still had a way to go before they became green there was plenty of colour and greenery in the smaller trees and various shrubs and bushes along my route. Across the main road running past the end of my street a narrow lane took me down to a second main road. Before WW1 the lane was little more than a farm track but in the period between then and WW2 several substantial detached properties were built, each with its own large garden – gardens which are now currently sporting this season’s colourful new growth.
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Across from the bottom of the lane is a large triangle of green space bounded by the busy main road on one side and two minor residential roads on the other sides. Not really big enough to call a proper park, but with a path running all the way round and a couple of benches it makes a pleasant oasis to sit and watch the world go by on a sunny day. Taking the road to the right of the ‘park’ I passed a row of semis with small front gardens and came to a narrow side street ending in a cul-de-sac and with two rows of stone cottages set at right angles to each other. The cottages each have their own small front gardens but set in a square and separated from them by a tarmac path is a series of small narrow extra gardens, one for each cottage, making the area look very quaint and pretty.
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Past the end of the side street the road ended in a traffic-free steep cobbled lane which took me down to the bridge over Eagley Brook, where I stopped for a few minutes to count the resident ducks down below  – it’s something I started doing years ago and still do whenever I pass that way, but I was disappointed this time not to see the big black-and-green Cayuga duck which I saw last year.
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Across the bridge was Brook Mill, a former late 19th century cotton mill now transformed into up-market apartments, and my route took me along the path behind the mill and its neighbour, Valley Mill, past the old and overgrown mill pond with its resident geese, and emerged onto the large area of open land used by a local sports club. A cobbled lane at the far side of the sports ground ran alongside the river for a little way then took me onto the main road where I came to the first private fishing lake down a short gravelled track.
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Across the main road a narrow tarmac lane took me past a field where a couple of ponies grazed peacefully and headed in the direction of the nearby golf club, passing the second of the private fishing lakes. Through the woodland on the left of the lane a rough farm track led up to the third lake set on the edge of a vast area of farm land; a shingle path ran close to one side of the lake and along the edge of the field to the main road which eventually runs past the end of my street but I crossed the field diagonally to another path which would lead to a short cut home.
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The path from the field took me past the high cultivated hedges shielding some private gardens, crossed the access road to a large modern estate and passed for a short distance between stone walls before emerging onto a small estate of bungalows built in the early 1970s, which is where I got the last couple of shots.
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From there I zig-zagged my way home via three avenues and a short footpath past a local playing field and ended what had been a very pleasant walk with my usual afternoon coffee and cake.

 

Not a proper blog post

I’d fully intended writing a proper blog post last night to publish this morning but found it impossible as I can’t, at the moment, sit in front of my pc for long enough to do it. The reason? Yesterday at work I pulled a muscle in my back and I’m now in very painful agony – I can’t sit, stand or walk properly for any length of time and it feels like someone has stuck a knife in me and is twisting it. The first two lots of painkillers didn’t touch it but the third lot helped and I did manage to get some (very broken) sleep, though I got up this morning with hair which looks like a bird’s nest as I’ve moved around in bed so much.
The poor pets didn’t get fed last night as I couldn’t bend down to pick up their bowls so I sent Michael a text asking for his help when he came in from his night shift this morning; he picked up the bowls, sorted out their food and even took Poppie for a short walk before going to bed for the day. There’s no way I can take Poppie for a walk myself just now so she’ll be on ‘garden exploration’ only for the next few days.
I did this once before, about six years ago, and it took two weeks before I was completely pain free. Back then I did it while I was washing my hair, yesterday I was reaching for a mop bucket under the sink in the works canteen – who would believe that such simple actions would trigger something which causes so much pain. For someone who is always healthy, never ill and (usually) as fit as the proverbial flea my current condition isn’t just painful it’s downright annoying too. It does have it’s funny side though – it’s not often that I ever drop things but anything which lands on the floor now has to stay there until Michael can pick it up for me. The house could end up looking like a war zone!
I’m glad in a way that our lovely sunny weather has now gone pear shaped, at least I won’t be tempted to go out walking while my back is playing up. I’ve got three Monday walks in the pipeline so if I don’t go anywhere now for a while it doesn’t matter, and hopefully by the time I feel fit enough to go for a decent local walk the sun will be back again.
Well this is about all I’m capable of typing just now, sitting in front of the computer for any length of time is extremely uncomfortable at the moment though hopefully things will improve enough over the next couple of days and I’ll be able to write up a Monday walk – right now I’m going to make myself a much needed coffee and take some more painkillers.