Walking The Wolds

The Lincolnshire Wolds Walking Festival is on again and I did the first walk of a few planned for this year yesterday. I headed out with Rachael for a 10am start at Binbrook with fingers crossed that the weather would hold.
It was just a 6 mile walk, nothing too strenuous but there were a few hills, the majority of them of the steep variety, but one was of the long and winding variety that went on and on and on. There's something disheartening about climbing a hill that has no visible end.
We toured round deserted medieval villages, of which little remains but small mounds, but it's still fascinating to think of people living in these places, especially as evidence suggests that we were tramping along the exact same paths that they would have travelled.
The walk leader, a retired history teacher, was relating her feelings that it was a shame that none of this area had been subject to any excavation. She then went on to say that as far as she was able to ascertain no excavation had ever been done of any nunneries. Apparently it was believed we had 153 nunneries and of those, the exact location of 100 are known. But out of that 100 absolutely none have been excavated. It would seem that the archaeological/scientific worlds see no interest in sites which relate only to women.
I'm actually a little appalled that this is the case.
The records of those years aren't even able to state how many nuns were living in the nunneries, it would seem the same is not true for the monks.
What a great shame.

We stopped off at a couple of the small churches along the way, in the second one it was decided to have a snack. I'd eaten most of my flask of soup at lunch, when I'd realised most of my lentils appeared to have jammed themselves immovably into the flask, but when we stopped in the church I thought I'd have a go and shaking them loose. Rachael held the mug and I shook the flask. Result! Lentil evacuation!
I started upon my lentils and promptly started to choke. I was in a church, I was down a pew, there was no swift exit to go cough quietly outside. I tried to cough quietly but realised this was not dislodging damn lentil. I motioned to Rachael and only managed to utter the word "water" whilst waving my hand to try and indicate my water bottle was empty. She dove into my bad, held up my bottle and told me it was empty. I nodded furiously, coughing copiously and the gentleman in the pew behind said "easy, love". Which didn't help.
Rachael finally handed me water, my eyes were streaming, my throat burning. After a swallow of water I managed to say that I needed to get out of the church so I could really cough.
I might be an atheist, but a coughing fit still seems really inappropriate in a church!
It's safe to say I did not need the heimlich, but my goodness my throat was sore right through till when I went to bed!

This morning Rachael and I headed out to Wragby to walk another 6 miles around the Lincolnshire Limewoods and out to Goltho which is the site of another medieval village - in fact in the overhead photo in the link, you can clearly see the outlines of the village near the chapel in the centre of the picture.
I somehow managed to hurt my back yesterday, the ground was uneven and I think I twisted it, so it was really nice to have a walk on the flat today, although I hadn't anticipated the level of mud! At one point my feet were cloaked in it!
This was another walk with plenty of stops for information on the area. The Limewoods project is working with ancient woodlands and has actually purchased land and planted enormous numbers of trees in an effort to join the patches of woodland together. They are planting only native species and also making sure they are native to the area as well as the country.
There is something gratifying in seeing so much green land and not just that, but green land which is solely for the growth of trees. When it seems that so much land is being taken over by the need for housing I'm awed to see acre upon acre given totally to nature. Absolutely wonderful!

Less wonderful is the sunkissed neck I am currently sporting. It was windy so I tied up my hair, neglecting to realise this would leave my neck mighty naked and now it is a shade that matches the scarlet of my hair.

Speaking of which, I discovered that my car, Jeff, had a flat tyre this morning, so after the walk, I rang for the breakdown fellow to come and help me. It's not that I'm not capable of changing a tyre, but I was parked right up against the kerb and I actually had no idea how I was supposed to release the spare tyre from underneath the car as I'm completely without a manual! Anyway, the lovely man from the RAC arrived, rang me to say he was outside and I popped out to meet him. He climbed out of his van, pointed at me and said "Fantastic hair!" How very kind! Naturally he's right of course!

Whilst I was wandering around the woodlands I got a call from Dad to say he was being readmitted to the hospital, bless him. His sister, Rosemary, is staying at the moment and was able to sit with him as I was out in the middle of a field/wood, so once Jeff had a new wheel and the old tyre was declared ruined by the nail within it, I headed up to the hospital. Dad seems to be doing ok, but mightily fed up. I can't say I blame him, I'd hate the constant toing and froing, so hopefully, hopefully, hopefully this will be the last trip and they'll finally establish what is causing him to live with pain every day...

What's Going On?

Oooh lots and lots.

Least that's the way it's seemed.

Let's see what's occurred. Obviously in no particular order as my brain is random, and doesn't work in any real order. Despite my OCD leanings!

On June 20th I turned 33. I wrote last year about how much I hate birthdays and wasn't really looking forward to another one. Damn their annual occurrence. But you know what? It really wasn't so bad. Who knew?!

I even got to go for High Tea... check out the sandwich and cake selection - I couldn't even see my fellow diners for cake. Pretty much heaven. Although it was quite a fright to establish I DO have a cake limit.

That's my sister hiding behind the second pic, she travelled down from Orkney for a wee visit and it was really lovely to see her and even better that she made it just in time for some High Tea adventures!

Then the day of my picnic rolled around and it rained. And rained. And rained.

It had to be decamped to my mothers house, which was good that it was possible to do that, but made me really sad in the morning that the weather had, rather literally, rained on my parade. But worse things happen!

It was really good to catch up with everyone that was able to make it and braved the barbecue under the big brolly!
I can't quite believe I didn't take a single picture, I was wearing my super-cool dress too!

***

I had my weekend away at The Big Session and it was really good. If you ignore what felt like arctic temperatures overnight. I did wake one morning and briefly fear that the numbness in my nose indicated it had frozen and dropped off.

We called this the Tree of Death.

Chairs are strangely frowned upon you know. They cage them these days.

That's my tent that is! See that brown lump? It's retro kitsch.

Well, it's old anyway. And I love it! Although it's about due for a bit of patching and the gingham ribbon that holds it together might be due for replacing...

Mmm, pizza. The Big Session is a really green festival, they insist that all plates, cutlery and napkins are compostable or recyclable. Even the plastic 'glasses' drinks are served in are biodegradable and gone in 2 months. This was even better though, my pizza came on a wooden board. Zero refuse. And damn it tasted fine!

I got to see plenty of folks that I really like and have a good dance and have a good chill out. I didn't partake of the ceilidh, I'm far too clumsy to Strip The Willow! I established however that one pair of jeans is not suitable for jumping up and down, as they slowly started to migrate I had to hold onto them whilst bouncing around. I'm not known for my elegance and that was very inelegant!

***
I've also been out there doing a bit of walking, I didn't think I was going to make it to the top of this hill and two gentlemen stopped to wait with me whilst I reassured my heart that there was no need for it to give up and I really WAS nearly at the top. When I finally made it, this view greeted me. I am so proud of where I live, it's beautiful.

***
This last weekend I went, with Mum and Tim, to visit my little sister in her new house. Now, it's well known that I don't really like cities and I've never been especially fond of Bristol, but she has a really lovely house. We hacked and dug and chopped and pruned and planted in the garden and it's gorgeous out there. We finally rested and made a lovely barbecue, which was obviously smelling so good to Louis that he practiced his best pleading face:

Go on, just one sausage. Look into his eyes.
I think he forgets my vegetarianism. He definitely had little interest in my vegetable kebabs. By the way, buying Halloumi cheese in Bristol is like a treasure hunt gone mad. We failed.

I also got to meet some friends while I was down there, old and new and it was really lovely to have that opportunity. When there's three hours between you it feels like halfway across the world. And with petrol prices hovering between £1.15 & £1.20 it's expensive to drive for three minutes, let alone three hours!

****
I spent a lot of time last week doing some overdue spring cleaning. I attacked, in earnest, my garage. I got rid of an amazing amount of crap and decided that I may as well burn a number of boxes I'd found as my recycling bin was full. I looked around at my neighbours. No washing to be seen. It was a weekday in school hours, I figured I'd be disturbing the minimum amount of people. I figured wrong. The peace of my village was somewhat ruined by a neighbour (I haven't exactly established which one) screaming that having a bonfire was a very stupid thing to do. I had apparently missed some washing. I contemplated shouting back, but the tirade was so vicious, I opted to hide behind my garage. I'm brave me.
So, more gardening is in order, I have been slowly attacking the weeds that are prolific, Mifford is helping as much as she can by laying on them, I'm not entirely sure these attempts at suffocation will be effective, but they say it's the thought that counts.

***
I can't remember if I said this, but by the time we'd finished the walking festival we'd done nearly 40 miles, which I'm pretty pleased with really, considering I'm incredibly unfit. I'll try and work on that this year! Maybe!

***
Tomorrow is July and the countdown to the Cambridge Folk Festival. It's very exciting! Well for me anyway!

***
I got myself an ice cream maker with money that I got for my birthday. The bowl of which refuses to fit into my freezer. Damn. Is it a little OTT to get a new freezer so you can make ice cream? No, I thought not.
I also got myself some extra foodie stuff, a piping bag for icing and the like - I'm enjoying cooking and am going to try my hand at some baking. I bought myself this little book: Cupcake Magic and I love it, I just wish there were more pics in it! Got a fab cookie & biscuit book too.

***
So there you go, that's some of what I've been up to. It's been a busy old time, but a lot of fun too. Just as it should be!

The Great Big Update

It's been a busy while - had plenty of walking last week and combined with an unpleasant cold it left me pretty wiped out.
On Thursday last week Rachael and I went out on a walk around Tetford & Somersby, in a walk that would follow the footsteps of Tennyson. We started in Tetford, walking past this rather gorgeous old mill house, which apparently still houses all of the mill equipment at this end of the building.
The local churches are all built from this local stone, which is a little farcical really as the stone is so soft you can carve your name in it, probably with the soft end of a feather. They may have been master builders back in the day but they still used cheap materials!
This is where Tennyson was born, which is surprising to me as it's actually owned by a private family. There's no access to it which seems to be rather a shame. Standing in the drive and peering at it whilst being barked at by an apparently by one of the original Hounds of the Baskervilles just isn't the same.Apparently, people assume this to be Tennyson's house as it's just next door and is decidedly more imposing. I quite fancy a bit of the old turret.
Somersby church - where Tennyson's father is buried. Sadly he is the only member of the family to be buried here, all the others are in a family crypt, but following a feud in the family, he was refused the right to be buried with the rest.
It's pretty in the wolds eh? And not so flat either!
This walk was described as having 'some steep climbs', at one point I thought I would surely just keel over. Either that or have my heart explode. It was bloody steep and I was bloody knackered!

How on earth crops are managing to grow when the ground is as parched as this amazes me. And not only are they growing, they're thriving. This ground looks like months of drought have sucked every ounce of moisture from it. Although, I find it bizarrely pretty.
Tetford church - still standing despite soft stone. So either they knew what they were doing or it costs a small fortune to keep standing. I wonder which?
Running Total

Miles Walked: 5 1/2

Miles Walked This Festival: 16 1/2

On Friday we headed out to Saltfleet to do a Saltmarsh stroll. I was a bit nervous about it as I have this real phobia of the sea and don't ever go on beaches. I'd been promised that the sea was a long, long, long way away - well, can you spot it? No, I thought not. So, very delightfully there was no freaking out. Although...

...perhaps one ought to be a little afraid of getting blown to smithereens instead. Especially as a red flag was flapping its little heart out right next to this sign.

I'm really lazy, this is a fascinating area with an enormous amount of flora and fauna. I'd love to tell you about it, but look, this lovely sign can do it for me. Genius.

Now, wasn't that fascinating?
Let me tell you. Walking on sand, at speed? That's no fun. I thought my calf muscles were hot enough to burn through my skin. I felt the burn.

I'm aware I find unusual things attractive to the eye. This is an old cork buoy and I just think it looks beautiful.

I've no idea what this is, but I want to know!
I managed to get thoroughly scarlet arms by the end of this outing. When we'd set off I'd been cursing myself for forgetting my coat, but then the sun came out, and didn't go back in. We walked in direct sunlight, we sat and had a drink, in direct sunlight. I was toasted. Ooops. We also got to see a few birds, and I spoke to the walk leader who knew the wetlands I thought I'd seen an egret at and confirmed there were egrets there. Hurrah.
On this walk we actually saw another egret, whitethroats, shelducks, reed warblers, skylarks and I think some kind of bunting, but I didn't have my book!

Running Total

Miles Walked: 4

Miles Walked This Festival: 20 1/2

Saturday rolled around, there were no walks planned, I had nothing I was supposed to be doing. Unfortunately I woke up feeling achey, sore and bitten. I decided the best option was to take it easy for a day, I hadn't really rested since I got my cold and I needed a bit of a break.

As an added bonus, this was the day of Eurovision. An unmissable event in my calendar. I settled myself down, I thought of popcorn, investigated the cupboards. Yes! I had the ingredients for a caramel sauce. But. No popping corn. An apple does not and never will, make up for a lack of popping corn. Shame.

So, Eurovision kicked off.
Romania went first. One of the Eurovision staples was obvious in this first song.... cheese. A cheesy couple singing a cheesy ballad. Eugh.
Second and it was us! The UK with really not a half bad song, well performed. I'm obviously not biased, but really, we didn't suck.

Third and Albania took the stage. Terry said it was the first navel outing of the evening and I remember not being able to really listen to the song after being perturbed by the really weird coat she was wearing. I know weird clothes are one of the other staples of Eurovision, but this was kinda cool whilst being totally wrong. It bothered me.

Fourth to the stage were Germany. I got a text from my friend Glen saying they were getting his vote, but not for singing talent. They were indeed four fine looking ladies, but again, what the hell was the deal with the outfits? How long does one need a cloak to be? Because several metres of cloak seems a fraction excessive to me.

Fifth were Armenia. I noted that both these and Germany were singing in English, that always intrigues me as to why they prefer that to their own language. I'll also never understand how they don't injure themselves with some of those dance moves, they had me worried.

Bosnia & Herzegovina were sixth and I sat with my mouth agape. Terry said that it contained the brides of Frankenstein. But that was just the beginning. What was with the weird moustache? Did the dude paint that on? Why was there a washing line? And why, when they turned the washing line round did it read 'LOVE' across the pants? Was she wearing bloomers? Were they out on day release? So many questions. So very typically Eurovision nonsense.

Seventh came Israel and I actually quite liked the song. Not his silver waistcoat, but this is not (thankfully) a fashion contest.

Then Finland were eighth, I firmly believe that the fireworks were there to hide the sight (fright) on stage. Eurovision is now giving us waxed half naked men. Why doesn't this fill me with glee? I just can't believe they're real rockers when they don't have any tattoos, or when they're wearing what appear to be simulated Wonder Woman cuffs. Terry said they could have used a little conditioner and he read my mind.

Ninth brought the turn of Croatia. I couldn't help wondering if the woman on the spinning platform was dizzy. I admit I wanted her to be and to fall off at some point. I am evil, we've covered that before. I also felt like they were going to bring out the tommy guns at some point, well until the old boy was doing some sort of mixing on the gramophone, then I was just watching for straitjackets.

Poland were tenth and apparently Barbie is alive and well and wearing a dress not unlike a mermaid costume.

Iceland came on eleventh and whilst I like a bit of co-ordination. Matching your shoes to your hair might be going a little too far. I do wonder if the light effects were an attempt at hypnotising the audience.
Twelfth brought Turkey to the stage. The lead singer apparently had a Just For Men addiction he couldn't control. I picked up my book in this song, I was afraid if I made eye contact or let him see my neck he'd take me to the dark side.

Portugal were thirteenth and I really felt I should support a fellow red-headed BBW, but I just couldn't. She gave me the willies, she seemed a bit scary, especially in the wind machine.

Latvia came on fourteenth and had more traditional, ridiculous Eurovision fare. I'm not sure I was supposed to laugh that hard at the fancy dress pirates.

Fifteenth was Sweden and I am sure that their entrant has been crossed with a cat. A cat with a huge forehead.

Sixteenth was Denmark. Finally a rocker with a tattoo. Well, a camp rocker, with braces. Not on his teeth either. I do wish the camera angle hadn't been directly up his nose.

Then came Georgia, on seventeenth, initially I wondered how on earth she was able to see in the shades she had on, then I wondered if she was blind and felt a little guilty. Blindness would allow for the truly bizarre costumes. But not for the sheeted costume change. Weird.

Ukraine were eighteenth and she flounced on, then there was a man in a box, no wait, two men, three men, four men. Four men in a box. Just as it should be I guess. I am greatly distracted by clothes tonight as I wonder just how heavy her dress must be with all that bling.

Nineteenth were France. What to say. Why were ALL the backing singers wearing beards? Even the women? It's a pressing question. Was the singer found to be using illegal substances prior to be performing? That's the only explanation I can come up with...

Heading towards the end and Azerbaijan were on twentieth. They had wings. I think he poured blood over her. Was the dude in black a werewolf? I don't understand. Not that I ever understand Eurovision.

Twenty-first was Greece, I'm sure she's a great dancer. In fact when she only danced it wasn't half bad. But the singing AND dancing, it just didn't look good to me.

On twenty-second was Spain and more Eurovision weirdness blasted my eyes. He was wearing a fake quiff wig. Why? I'm also sure that guy used to do the Mr Muscle adverts.

Serbia were twenty-third and it felt a bit Lord Of The Rings to me. I expected Frodo at any moment. Terry liked this one though, but maybe he's a Tolkein fan. I was bored and wished I had managed to make popcorn.

The penultimate performers were Russia, on twenty-fourth, I was wondering if his bare feet were cold and then he went and leapt on the miniature ice rink and they had to be. I was sure that the dizzy ice skater would be lopping off a few toes with his skates afore long.

Finally, twenty-fifth were Norway. Rather scarily, not only did I like her dress, I actually quite liked the song. Had i thought that voting were not an absolute waste of time, she'd have got my vote.

Finally voting began, we worked our way round the 43 countries. I laughed very unfairly, but hysterically at the Swedish chap. Terry suggested he was related to the Swedish Director General. I'm really not sure if he was genuinely idiotic or attempting comedy. Make your own mind up here.

So, voting over, the winner was Russia with 272 points.
The UK got 14. 6 points came from San Marino and 8 from Ireland.
We actually did deserve more than that.

Terry said "Is it even funny any more?" The simple answer is no.

As reported here, it's not a music contest any more, not that it has been for years. But I do wonder how much support the UK should offer in future. When voting seems pointless as the bloc voting guarantees an Eastern Europe win where's the fun in watching? There's no suspense as the votes are cast. It becomes boring. The bloc voting used to cause minor amusement, but as more and more countries join the contest, it is no longer funny.

I do feel that should Terry leave the contest that a lot of supporters will too. He makes it, his commentary is what keeps you hooked. You know it's tongue in cheek, but still you have to play fair, bloc voting feels almost tantamount to cheating.

I sat and read though some statistics from this years final, it was interesting that five countries didn't award the winners - Russia, any point at all. Those five countries were all Western Europe. Two countries gave Russia one point, those were both Western Europe too. Yet five of the six sets of 12 points came from former USSR countries. I find it fascinating.

I also find myself hoping that the BBC withdraw their support of the contest.
For a contest it is not.

Sunday morning rolled around and Rachael and I headed out to Tathwell for another walk. We'd planned an 8 1/2 mile walk but I just wasn't up to it and was really disappointed about that. So we chose this shorter walk instead, I'm pleased as it was really quite cold, the wind was bitter and although it's not bad to walk in as you don't get too hot, I have a feeling that after a while you'd have been sorely tired of the constant wind.

Can you see, just barely, just vaguely the small green mounds on the horizon. No, not the trees, the mounds! Oh well, whether you can or not, them there's burial mounds from long, long ago. There's nine in total although only a couple to be made out in this pic. It was cold and windy damn it.

Despite the cold weather it was a good walk, the leader is a really interesting woman who also led the Tennyson walk. She has an incredible amount of local knowledge and it was interesting to discover that the village we walked around was owned by the same people that owned the land adjacent to where I live. You can't quite imagine having such a vast amount of land.

We're out walking with her again later this week so that should be really interesting again.

Running Total
Miles Walked: 2 1/2
Miles Walked This Festival: 23

Well, I said it was a great big update! I didn't lie!

Marton & Hegley

Last night it was the turn of Marton for my latest excursion with the walking festival. Rachael and I were joined by her sister Helen, for her first and only outing with the festival. We drove into the village and looked out for fellow walkers - easily distinguishable by their shoes and rucksacks. We were supposed to be meeting at the cemetery churchyard and as we turned into the designated road we saw a collection of walkers and their cars. We found somewhere to park and joined the huddle. We waited. It was 7pm and no-one seemed to be about to set off. There was no-one that looked like a leader. We all stood around.
We murmured that perhaps we had been forgotten.
Perhaps we were in the wrong place.
It turned out the latter was true.
There was a graveyard at the church and another further along the same road.
Luckily the walk had needed to pass myself and the fellow stragglers, otherwise we'd have been a little lost!
The walk set off at quite a pace. So fast I only managed to get one photograph as we headed onto the riverbank.
It was really quite cold and that made me quite glad of a quickened pace, but I knew I'd feel it in the morning. (Although in actuality, only my left knee is a bit sore).

We strode single file along the riverbank, Rachael said later she felt like she'd been frogmarched!
It did feel a little like there should have been a chorus of "I don't know but I've been told, It's lovely walking in the wolds".
It was supposed to be a two hour walk, taking in the breathtaking scenery. The only thing I saw was the grass around my feet as I watched carefully to make sure I didn't fall down any holes. There just wasn't time to pause or look around you, even when we stopped briefly to cross a stile it felt like a quick march, I almost expected people to start vaulting over.
So we managed to cut the two hour walk clean in half.

The women directly behind me gave excellent eavesdropping opportunities too. I was able to have quiet little chuckles to myself.

Woman 1: So are you missing Weightwatchers tonight for this?
Woman 2: Yes.
Woman 1: I saw X the other day, she's lost a lot of weight hasn't she?
Woman 2: Yes, she's done really well. And lost it really evenly too.

How do you lose weight unevenly? Does it all go from your big toe?

Woman 1: There are two things a vacuum cleaner needs you know.
Woman 2: Really?
Woman 1: Yes. One is a high powered motor. I don't know what the other is. But Dyson has it.

Our vote went to the second thing being suction.

Running Total
Miles Walked: 4
Miles Walked This Festival: 11


On Thursday last week I went to see John Hegley with Gary.
I am at a loss to remember where and how I first discovered John Hegley, only that I'm really pleased I did. I adore his poetry - I'll be sharing some of my favourites in a wee while.
We went to take our seats and discovered that we were in the back row of the front four rows and also in the exact centre. We contemplated climbing over, but being miniature in stature I wasn't sure I could make it without causing concussion to a fellow audience member. The gentleman next to my seat heard my worries and held down my seat, to aid my climbing and keep safe the rest of the venue. I applaud you Sir.

Mr Hegley took the stage and was suitably brilliant. Before too long I was shaking with laughter, I could not stop the giggles and holding them in just made me shake. At one point the giggles erupted into a terrific snort. It wasn't pretty.
He said he was going to talk about Newcastle, and did anyone have a connection with the place. A lady in the front row shoved her hand into the air with an exclamation of 'I was born there'.
"Anyone else?" he asked.
Beside me I saw Gary's hand shoot into the air.
I turned and looked at him quizzically, I didn't know he was connected.
"Yes Sir?" said Mr Hegley.
"I've been there" said Gary
The lady in the row in front thought that was hilarious.

He rattled through poem after poem, he showed us his drawings on the overhead projector and caused much hilarity.
Just before the interval he did Owl acrostics, holding up his drawing of an owl. We all had to shout the letters as he shouted back his word for each. Then, lucky people that we are we had the opportunity to purchase one of such drawings... as beautifully illustrated below.
Gary had his signed first, but I demanded mine be signed in the jowls. I don't know why, I just liked the way it sounded.
There was some singing, which was brilliant, when he did The Amoeba Song he said we would be in three groups. He pointed to the right hand side of the auditorium (my right) and called us Section A. Then to the left, Section B. Folks in the middle had to make their own mind up. And as for section C, he pointed at the gentleman directly in front of Gary and called him Section C. Harsh.
Section A had to sing 'amoeba, amoeba, amoeba, amoeba, amoeba, amoeba, amoeba, amoeba', Section B had 'meeba, meeba, meeba, meeba, meeba, meeba, meeba, meeba, etc'. Section C had to thrust his glasses into the air and yell 'amoeba!'.
It was hilarious, but you might have had to be there.

Anyway, I had a fabulous time and am demanding you check out some poetry - you must click the link for the amoeba song up there, then click the link right here for the Love Cuts poem.

Here are a few of my other favourites.

Electric Chair Poem
The Volts
The Jolts
The End.

Pat
I said Pat
you are fat
and you are cataclysmically desirable
and to think I used to think
that slim was where it's at
well not any more Pat
you've changed that
you love yourself
you flatter yourself
you shatter their narrow image of the erotic
and Pat said
what do you mean FAT?

From another age
What looked like a broken window
in the phone box door
was actually a very small, lone,
levitating dinosaur.

My doggie don't wear glasses
My doggie don't wear glasses
so they're lying when they say
a dog looks like its owner
aren't they.

First sex
I was about six
the first time my mother told me
how it was bad to play with myself,
but I think she preferred it
to me playing with my sister.

Oh I think that will do for now... Absolutely brilliant.

Manby Flats

Monday was the walk we had planned for Manby Flats.
Rachael, Rachel and I headed out to Louth as I had been going on for so long about the amazing food to be found at Perkins Pantry that it was decided we should dine there before heading out on our walk.
After all, how many cafes offer a choice of over 130 scones? Every day?
The vegetarian menu is just enormous. Although the menu itself is just vast, I'm sure that there is always a stunned silence when people come in and see the scale of it.
The plan is that we get ourselves booked in for high tea this year. I cannot resist the draw of tiered cake stands with sandwiches and cakes indefinitely!
Maybe I will get there for my birthday this year!

After lunch we made our way to Manby and began to look for the church. We had decided it would be easy to find as they all have steeples making them taller than their surroundings. Unless their surroundings are ancient, very tall, trees that is. We eventually spotted a pair of high visibility vests and recognised the walk leaders from the previous day and parked the beastie outside the church.
The ground was littered with confetti, which somehow always raises a smile, giving you images of a wonderful day. Although I'm not sure the daisy was so joyful.
The church at Manby is just beautiful. I'm disappointed that you can't make out the gargoyles that sit at each corner near the top as they were wonderful. It was built back in 1485, which will never fail to stun me, it's in such gorgeous condition.
Roads in Lincolnshire are not designed for speeding!

This area is owned by one gentleman, he bought the fields following the death of his farmer friend and has turned it over to nature. The field below is ploughed and then sown, but all the crop is left to go to seed and provide food for the birds over winter. It just seems like a wonderful use of the land to me.

Each area is named after someone, the ponds were the first thing that he created when he bought the land, and he had a daughter, who sadly died but had always wanted a pond, so he created large ponds, which are now wonderfully established and home to an amazing amount of wildlife.

I'm sure at some point I spotted an egret but hadn't taken my binoculars with me, I've also never seen one in this country but I can't think what else it could have been. Someone suggested it might have been a goose. Really, I know the difference between a goose and an egret. I've seen enough of both to be able to tell the difference. I had no idea Manby Flats even existed but many, many birds don't seem to have been in the same boat. There were so many birds to look at that I bored all around me with my cursing about the lack of binoculars. It frustrates me most when I can't immediately recognise them.

We climbed a number of stiles. I attempted to kill someone with my bottle of ice as I accidentally flung it into the air in a mishandled stile climb. No serious injuries were sustained though.

Although all the people standing on the very rickety wooden bridge made me very nervous. I have issues with bridges at the best of times, but ones that are clearly rotting make me especially nervous. I'm known to run across most bridges. I'm weird like that.

We returned back to the car and a number of the walkers carried on to look at something else, but I had plans so dragged Rachael and Rachel off to go home, so I could prepare dinner for Gary & Aggie.

Running Total

Miles Walked: 3

Miles Walked This Festival: 7