R's rue

  I woke around 3.15 pm yesterday afternoon, which was far too early. I heard the  tinkle of water and for a moment lay in bed with Dorothy’s fat face smiling at me. I rolled over and looked at the floor to see Roger merrily peeing inside one of my work shoes. Beyond caring I rolled back over and slept until after 4 pm when I had to get up.  I’m not an elastic band any more We are all getting older  That little nugget of philosophy seeped into my head soon after when I was chatting to a villager with a poorly spouse. Dorothy as usual was playing up as my friend was shedding a tear of worry and remained a pain when she actually snapped the chewed bit off her lead in sheer boredom when unfortunately poorly  Meirion showed up so wanting to share his exciting news of a forthcoming  cholecystectomy.  Some like Animal Helper Pat and Mrs Trellis have a sort of eternal youth about them, but as they pass the cottage, battling wind and rain and...

Today, I returned to a place I had not visited since July 2018 - out on the moors west of Sheffield. It's called The Head Stone and it can be seen very easily from The A57 Snake Pass road that weaves its way to my adopted city from Glossop and Manchester. I blogged about The Head Stone after my last visit. Go here . In the intervening four years, I have not been able to find out any more about it, except that in past times it had different names including Stump John, The Priestley Stone and The Cock Crowing Stone. When you are there, you notice the rising ground and the other rocks that surround The Head Stone - many hidden by bracken and heather. Having visited many ancient sites, I am pretty sure that the location is not only interesting because of its geology but because of the long ago secrets it cannot speak. I have no idea if it has ever received the close attention of skilled archaeologists. I walked for over two hours this afternoon, leaving Clint at the Wyming Brook ...