Driving around Windermere over to Broughton

We had a pleasant drive in winter sunshine yesterday, stopping for a simple lunch at Booths supermarket cafe in the town of Windermere. We drove along the east side of the lake, taking photographs from the car, mostly as we were moving. The road is narrow, winding and undulating with few places to stop. We took the road back home that goes through Coniston but we found it closed when we got to Torver so came a long way home over a hill above Broughton with great views of the glittering sea.

For more photographs of Cumbria go to Lake District Saga
For a more literary blog, go to my Wrinkly Writers
To read about my author activities go to my books blog
Magpies Nest Publishing is my publishing site.
AGPress (USA) has a special deal coming up on the books I have published there. A good place to go for those interested in hand-crafted books (a rarity these days?)

Winter Reflections

Winter is almost upon us. Snow has fallen on high places around the country. I have to admit to getting very tired as the sun goes down, but then, we are entering the winter of our lives. But winter CAN be enjoyed as much as the other seasons. Time to take stock and enjoy what we have and what we are. To see the beauty, love and joy within and without. To appreciate and be thankful.


For those who are still unpublished authors or simply enjoy reading:
Just in case one or two of you have thought of getting one of my books, or have been wondering about publishing their own book through AGPress and would like to know what a handcrafted book looks and feels like, there is a special offer on that might be of interest to you. I have just had this Email from Grover Pillsbury:

I want to let you know that we will be holding a sale from Black Friday (11/26) to Cyber Monday (11/29) all books will be 50% off all books plus shipping. If you want to put this up for people to see we hope that it will sell some books. I am still working on a box set for the trilogy and hope to have it ready soon (I will let you know when it is available) with a sale price of $29.95.

http://agpressma.books.officelive.com/default.aspx

For more about self-publishing — especially warnings — see my Wrinkly Writer post

Whinlatter Forest Park — The English Lake District

For a birthday treat (as good an excuse for a run out as any!) we drove up to Whinlatter Forest Park on Monday.
It was a glorious drive there: through woods and by lakes, autumn colours glowing in brilliant sun, water sparkling on water — lakes, streams and waterfalls.
Whinatter as wonderful as ever: majestic trees, fantastic views and birdlife, and, of course, the Siskin cafe — good homemade food and great views from the windows.
A short walk, my problem knee preventing more than about thirty or forty minutes. No one counting!
A delightful piece of metal sculpture is close to the entrance. Great craftsmanship and design. We just had to take a picture of it — yes, it is the grey metal thing, not that old bird next to it!

A Ride Around Thirlmere, A Walk in Whinlatter Forest.

Last week it was my husband's birthday. In the morning I thought of asking him if he would like us to go to Whinlatter Forest for a short walk and lunch. There is a great little Siskin café there that serves up homemade food — simple but delicious. Tables outside too where you can watch the birds flying through the trees and feeding from nut and seed feeders that are drawn up to eye level. (The café is built up an incline so as to get lovely views of the forest.)

I decided not to ask as it is a good way for him to drive. Half an hour later, he asked me! This often happens. Sometimes it is quite funny. We both come up with the same reply, or automatically look at each other with the same expression when asked a question, or told a story.

“OOO… Fancy that!” Of course, you may think, “So what!”

We just find it funny.

The drive to Whinlatter takes us along country lanes and roads by the side of lakes and through valleys. Thirlmere Reservoir has been in the news lately because an earlier dry spell lasting far longer than usual had caused a considerable drop in the water level. It caused a hose pipe ban in the areas it feeds, as far down as Manchester. The water is now rising although it still has a little way to go. You will see this from the photographs. They are all of Thirlmere. There are plenty of photographs of Whinlatter in an earlier post.

Since we intended walking, we both decided on a bowl of soup with roll and butter. A piece of cake to share afterwards. (Well, it was hubby's birthday!) My eyes popped when the soup arrived — in two pound size pudding basins! The large seedy roll was also homemade — delicious with tow large pats of butter. (We don't usually eat butter because of the cholesterol) The cake too, was lovely. It was with a heavy tummy that we took a walk afterwards — not far, just about 50 minutes. Slow going as I soon get puffed, as well as my knee being sore at present.

The weather kept fine for us, even if clouds threatened rain.

We drove home via the other side of Thirlmere and I took some photographs.

Once home, hubby decided to cut the grass as rain was forecast for the weekend.

Just as well, rain has poured down!

A lovely day to remember.

Love Barrow-in-Furness?

Barrow-in-Furness

Barrow seems to get a lot of stick. To hear certain statistics you might be forgiven for thinking it is definitely a no-no place to visit. That is a shame because Barrow-in-Furness is steeped in history, its main streets are wide and well planned and although there may be rows of old terraced housing in large areas, there is a certain charm about them that speaks of old times and neibourliness. Certainly, the many homes that I have visited in the town have been most welcoming. Nineteenth Century buildings and large park, speak of the civic pride when industrial Barrow had it heyday.

The Shipworks can be viewed from different angles. The view from Walney Island is quite splendid. So too, looking across from the promenade by Morrisons. Sandy beaches on Walney and at Roanhead are not just places to enjoy the sea and sit in the sun. Walney has a gull colony and Roanhead a wild life sanctuary. You don’t have to go far to get a great view of sea and fells with a mountain backdrop. There are plenty of shops in the town centre with supermarkets on the fringes. Plus all the entertainments you would expect from a town this size. The Forum 28 has great shows, plus regular free lectures by outstanding speakers who, at times, come from considerable distances.

When we first came to this area forty-two years ago things were a little different, especially towards newcomers. But since the place has been opened up by decent roads and with movement of people in and out, things have changed. I doubt any pupil would now regard a town a few miles away as being a remote place for their teachers to live, or consider them to be foreigners if they did not have a Barrovian accent.

I can’t say what schools are like now, but the children I taught could be difficult but were mostly a joy.

I still have a piece of paper with the signatures of all the children in the most difficult class of boys I had to teach. (It was the first year that three schools had become united but the Secondary School children taught separately from the Grammar until full integration took place) Would you believe, that class had the unfortunate group name of 3Z!

On the last day of term, which happened to be the last lesson on a Friday, these boys came in without a sound and sat down with their arms folded. Fearing they were up to something, I looked each one in the eye. ‘All right, what’s going on?’ I asked.

Silence and then, after a minute, the most sensible one said, ‘Please, Miss. This is our last day with you. We have all decided to be well behaved.’ With a balled fist, he gave a quick glance at the others and said, ‘Or else…’

They were fantastic. No teacher could have a better present. During the lesson I saw a piece of paper being passed around. Oh dear, what were they up to? It was brought to my table.

‘Please, Miss. We don’t think you will want this… suppose you’ll throw it away. But we want you to have it just the same.’

I read what was on the paper and nearly wept. Each boy had signed the paper. It was like a signature to a beautiful painting. That painting being the memory of lads controlling all their natural end-of-year exuberance to make my last day with them memorable.

After twenty-eight years since taking early retirement (to move on to another career, partly in Barrow), my thoughts of the place are not twisted by some of the unfriendliness received by a handful of people who had never been further than the beach (unless travelled by train and plane to a Spanish beach!) but by working alongside ordinary people over a number of years.

Before we moved up to the Furness area, people thought we must be crazy. They viewed Barrow as the end of a cul-de-sac, which was at the end of the earth! At that time the dreadful roads might have suggested it. But roads, like Barrow, have improved. I can’t join the ‘I love Barrow’ badge wearers, but I do respect the town and its people. If social problems exist in large numbers it is hardly surprising with rapid changes taking place in industry. Like everywhere else, they will be ironed out. With the whole of the Lake District National Park on its doorstep, and so much to see locally, Barrow has much to offer any tourist — or someone coming to work in the area,

I often wondered what happened to those boys.

Mountains, Forests, Lakes and Dales — The English Lake District

We have just been on a holiday to the upper part of the English Lake District, taking in the Coastal harbours. Not far away maybe, but a break among the mountains, climbing up hills, walking by lakes and rivers, visiting harbours with their new marinas. Taking in sweet scents of pine and wild flowers, lifted to Paradise by magnificent views. The strenuous exercise actually relieved the discomfort I had been suffering with arthritic knees!
We marvelled at the new life all around us — foals, lambs, pretty little pigs, young birds, red squirrels, and, of course, the freshness of new green growth amongst woodland and meadow.
And when we were resting in our caravan, my husband read to me. Two interesting novels, although we were glad to get to the end of one of them as it seemed to go on forever with unnecessary detail. I guess some writers hate to miss out anything gleaned through research, but why stretch out a story with what often seems like padding?

Getting home we were welcomed by the colourful blooming of our garden shrubs and trees. We can't help but wonder how we came to live in such a lovely part of England!

I also found I had received excellent reviews for my Seduction By Design but they deserve a post of their own!

The Eye Of The Beholder

Threatening Rain

Heavy rain threatened today but the garden needs it. Against the dark sky the beauty of the countryside is made manifest. In everyone’s life a little rain must fall. So often nature reflects our own mood. Light and shadow. Sun and rain. Joy and sorrow. Life is full of contrasts. Without contrasts life would lack lustre. Writers have their highs and lows. Words may flow, or dam up like a stream clogged with debris. For me, words are not flowing, they are clogged with jumbled thoughts. One day a refreshing shower will come and clarity will return.

Alpaca Love!

For Love of Alpacas


I visited a local farm and took photos of beautiful alpacas. They sure did look cuddly with their exceedingly deep hair fleeces. The fibre is not called wool (so I was told) and I was given a little to feel. Yes indeed the fibres were about six inches in length and incredibly fine, rather like my own hair which seems almost invisible on the crown and top.
We have been keeping an eye on these gorgeous creatures since they arrived in the area and I felt it a privilege to go up close to take my photographs. The boys, real cuties, were separated from the girls and not in the least shy. The girls were a little suspicious but gradually came closer as their curiosity increased. No smells and as clean as if they had just had a shampoo all over.
I know alpaca owners keep them more for pleasure than profit. Each fleece produces enough fibre for about two cardigans so it hardly pays for their food and special attention. But evidently, like dog breeding, the offspring can be sold for fairly high sums. But it is joy they give by being just themselves that is reason enough to keep them.
I find them utterly charming and would have loved to have given one or two a cuddle! Cuddling is a reassuring activity, but I doubt alpacas would appreciate it!

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Ask Gran Hobson for questions about yesteryear.

New Homes — Something To Crow About!

Birds of a feather…
As I sit listening to the stories my husband reads to me, I watch the crows building nests in a couple of trees about a hundred yards away.
I wonder at the community gathered there. At least eight nests are under construction and it gets a little noisy at times. What are they saying to one another? All the birds are engaged in building but they don’t seem to squabble or fight. No laying down tools or flying off in a huff.
They come to our ancient beech tree and hack away at the the joints of twigs, then fly back to put another ‘brick’ in the ‘wall’ of their large constructions. There they are, safe in the tops of the tall trees and not one stopping for a fag or a cuppa. As they ‘prune’ our beech, I think to myself ‘that will be less leaves to sweep up in the autumn.’
Last year birds broke the twigs off our silver birch trees, taking them off to trees at the other end off a near-by field. I admit they made me cross. The six trees are already short of their twiggy branches. What’s more they dropped quite a few and just left them on the grass. Waste! I hate waste! The lacy twigs and branches look lovely when the buds open and small fresh green leaves tell us it is spring. They sway and rustle as the sun filters through to the daffodils below. Ah, but that is yet to come. And this year their branches are intact!
Soon we will see the smaller birds nest-building. The tits seemed to be doing that during the last sunny spell. Then all went quiet again. I worry about the little birds, especially those that sing to us. We know we have birds of prey in the area. Of course, all birds have a right to food, but I find it sad that our delicate harmless feathered friends end up as meat in a feather sandwich. Bad enough we have cat prowlers.
Soon spring will be here and the gorgeous dawn chorus will start my day in an enchanted rhapsody.

Visit Magpies Nest Publishing to read chapters of some of my books.
Visit my Wrinkly Writers for a different scene and a few stories
Visit my Gladys Hobson - Author site
And if you want to ask an old biddie a question about the 'good old days' (or were they?) and ask a question about 'survival' and simple food and recipes visit Ask Gran Hobson
For my books published in the USA go to the AGPress bookstore