Guess what?

 STILL waiting for the same workmen - this time they have had the grace to text and confirm the day AND time they will be landing.... however -

Their timing is not good as today I have a lot to deal with and I am just not sure which way to turn first. It is, at the moment too early in the morning to make the essential phone calls and possible transporting of my folks to the bank - they are struggling with understanding online insurance, online banking, online booking of the internet/changing off address/etc etc and although I can help to a certain degree - but most of my help seems to be trying to catch up or fix what they have done before it gets too disastrous! 

So while I wait for the rest of the world to wake up - I thought I'd share a walk we did yesterday.

We have a brooding lump of a hill which looms over the village and I suspect a good number of the villagers climb the hill at least once yearly, Himself included. I have not been up for a while and mindful that I have neglected to gasp my way up the soggy moorland sides of it, we went up on Sunday.

The approach from our house takes us up via the old cobbled track, down through the older part of the village past jumbles of tiny cottages and expensive new builds which are still wrapped in plastic and scaffolding looking quite out of context to the rest of the homes - the price of greed I suppose...

Eventually the houses become small holdings, chickens, horses and donkeys filling the fields, then they become farms where sheep and beef cattle then take over. 

Finally we reach the moor road, stop for a brew and a view before turning upward to the hill.

The ground underfoot immediately turns wet. The foot path glints with rain water puddles and boggy pools and Willow gets rather excited as she tries out as many watering holes as possible.

As we make our way over the marshy shoulders, you can just about hear the brook burbling down beneath the reeds and a mewing buzzard through the winds which are cold and cutting. The gradual slope suddenly goes upward, where the foot path almost takes on stair like steps caused by thousands of feet over the years, leaving you no choice but to follow the exact stride as you walk (gasp) up the flank.

Almost at the top of the steep section are a handsome collection of stones known as Lad's Law and I have photos over the years where Himself as a younger man and then the boys when they were various stages of little and not so little are seen climbing up and over the rocks. Today was no different although rather more precarious than usual as the buffeting winds were not making it easy.

We turned back on to the path, soon spotting the trig point where we thought we'd stop for our break but at this point we knew that it would just be a brief visit - far too windy to linger. 

We did have to however, is the 'obligatory' dog-on-a-trig photo - can't break with tradition can you!

As soon as we could, we dropped down off the top and hunkered into a grassy bowl out of the wind. Definitely time to open the flask and bag of dog biscuits!

After a short while and before we could cool down too much, we set off again, traversing the top of the hill from rock formation to rock formation, exploring their strange weather beaten shapes and secret pools of water.

Then, just as we reached the end of the path before turning back down, a large party of folk suddenly appeared, ragged breath and red faced, having just come up the path we were about to follow down. Several managed to gasp a greeting as we walked by. For the most part, the descent passed quietly and it was not until we reached farmlands again when we met a farmer moving his flock. 

He is one of the village 'icons' known for his foul temper and active dislike of general folk. As we reached the gate he was about to go through - he looked at me and said ... I know you..... you used to live in the village. I smiled and said that we still do and that somethings don't change. He grunted, then smiled broadly which both Himself and I know to be a rare treat and wished us a good walk.

Again we set off, through the farmlands, then the small holdings, returning to the main street through the village and down the cobbles to home where a much needed mug of tea or two restored three very wind blown but happy walkers.

PS - the roofers have arrived, only three weeks and one hour late.....