Hot

 

It was significantly hotter today than it was on Tuesday when I walked on the moors above Buxton. However,  I was determined to have another nice walk in the countryside. After all, as Noel Coward once sang, "Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun".

Young Clint and I did not travel far - just three or four miles to a long, straggly village to the south of Sheffield called Holmesfield. I abandoned Clint by a farm entrance after cracking all his windows open a little.

"Don't leave me!" he wailed. "It's hot enough to fry an egg on me!"

Naturally, I ignored him and two or three minutes later I snapped the shot revealed exclusively at the top of this blogpost. I was looking over a harvested field to Sheffield's southern suburbs and beyond. 

From Fanshawe Gate Road, I headed up a kind of arboreal tunnel  that is in reality a bridle path for horse riders. It ran for half a mile or more. So cool and shady that I removed my sun hat for a while. I did not encounter a single horse and rider. 

More secret lanes and ancient pathways led me down the valleyside passing a flock of sheltering sheep and over-heated cows seeking whatever shade they could find. There were no other walkers out and about.

Now I am not one of those walkers who habitually factors in a pub stop. Usually I am happy enough with cold water from a flask. Besides, pub stops mean lost time. However, today I made an exception.  "The Royal Oak" at Millthorpe was open so I decided to stop for a beer shandy and a packet of Yorkshire crisps (American: chips). These I happily consumed in the pub's shady beer garden before heading back up the valleyside along  different paths.

Oh Lord, I was weary slogging up that valley. The pastures were so dry for farm animals and horses but I spotted this young cow grazing away from the herd. Grass really isn't growing now. I haven't had to mow our back lawn in weeks. There can't be much nutrition in that field. In a normal English summer,the grass would be well-watered and verdant, filled with goodness.

It was a relief to get back to Clint and settle into his stifling cockpit once more before before heading home. Chocks away!

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Up

 Waking up

Joyful

Because I’m alive

And God continues

To exceed my expectations

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Told Off

 Mrs Trellis told me off this morning for watering the planters in the heat of late morning.

I apologised but told her as I was going to London today it was the only time I could do so.

She pursed her lips 

“ Another holiday? She asked.

I knew she was pissed at me, I can always read the signs now 

She has vocalised before that sometimes I leave the dogs too often with Trendy Carol and her hubby

I reminded her that I was only away overnight

A treat for my birthday.

She pulled the brim of  her white laced sun hat down and walked on with a warning “ Keep out of the sun”

The girls down at Trendy Carol’s barked their welcome at the garden gate and she stopped to coo at them

I hate being in Mrs Trellis’ bad books

It’s like being told off by a favourite aunt

She reminds me of Calpurnia, Atticus Finch’s housekeeper in some ways

 “She’s a faithful member of this family and you’ll simply have to accept things the way they are...Besides, I don’t think the children have suffered one bit from her having brought them up. If anything, she’s been harder on them in some ways than a mother would have been… she’s never let them get away with anything”

I took her advice and dressed in shorts and T shirt I’m sat on the train southwards. Apparently it’s 90 degrees in the capital so shorts will have to do for the Theatre 

I’m not staying with Nu in West London but have booked the Z Hotel in Covent Garden

I need to be back home earlyish tomorrow as there’s a meeting about the village pond I promised to go to

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