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| Child's jumper and hat set |
My intention to write one blog a month has slipped slightly,
so I am going to combine December and January and try to get back on track for
February!
To be honest, December did seem to pass in rather a blur, as
I geared up for the markets up to Christmas. I hadn’t booked any extra Christmas
markets as I couldn’t get my mind around it back in May when everyone else
seems to book them, so I had the Shepton Mallet Christmas Market toward the end
of November and then the Victorian Market at the end of December, and then my
usual weekly markets in between. To this end I made mincemeat, Christmas
chutneys, marmalade with whisky, strawberry jam with prosecco and redcurrant
jelly as well as all my usual preserves.
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| Airedale terrier |
On the crafting side, I had a some commissions to do
for Christmas: an Airedale terrier that had to be sent to Derbyshire, a black pony for someone's granddaughter and a fox
for a local lady, plus a child’s knitted jumper and hat combo.
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| Black pony |
In between all this frenetic making and baking I managed to
squeeze in a two day farm sit near Pensford, for the alpacas. Dougal, the
little cria that I had to bottle feed back in July, is still small – but perfectly
formed! and has become a pin-up, as he features on a range of merchandise made
by Sarah – I am now the proud possessor of a Dougal keyring and a Dougal
notebook! The alpacas were very fed up, as they really don’t like the rain, and
their field was distinctly squishy and muddy with water standing on it in
places – they spent most of their time skulking about in the barn and field
shelter and begging to be put on flights back to Peru!
The pigs were no longer there, but the geese were still around
and there were some new laying hens, which made the evening shut-in more of a
caper than ever, but was achieved eventually, as darkness fell. The little
hamlet of Woollard had got its own Christmas lights festival going on with lots
of twinkly lights festooning trees and shrubs and even strung across the River
Chew, which was running very high. Sarah asked me to check that the lights
weren’t getting too near the water if the river rose much more and to turn them
off if there was any danger! Luckily, it didn’t come to that.
My last market was on 22nd December and, on 23rd
December, I packed up my car and drove to Sheffield, to share the festivities
with my family at my sister’s home. Rather than drive the motorway all the way,
I chose to follow the route of the ancient Fosse Way, from right outside my
house all the way to High Cross in Leicestershire (deemed to be the central
point of Roman Britain), where two Roman roads cross – the Fosse Way from the
south west and Watling Street from the south east. It is amazing that this
route is still so well-defined and dead straight for much of its length.
I stopped for a Second Breakfast, of coffee and large toasted
tea cake, at Pumpkins Deli in Brinklow, a small town/large village between
Coventry and Rugby, before girding my loins for my least favourite part of the
journey – the M69 and M1. Traffic was heavy on the M1 and I was quite relieved
to leave it at Chesterfield and head off toward Sheffield. It was lovely to
spend the festivities with family, especially as I rarely see my nieces at
other times during the year, and my sister and brother-in-law go to a lot of
trouble with the catering! Free-range, organic turkey from the local city farm,
cooked overnight in the bottom oven of the AGA, is absolutely the best!
All too soon, it was time to head south again but, this time,
I had company, as I was taking Mum back to Cheltenham and staying with her until
New Year.
And then, suddenly it was January!
I had decided, back in November that, as the gardening jobs
were quiet and the markets cold and inhospitable at this time of the year, I
would decamp to Cheltenham for a few weeks. The intention was to stay with Mum
and help her out during the winter weather but, to date, we have not experienced
‘winter weather’ and I am probably a bit redundant. However, it’s been good to
spend time with her and I’ve been able to help her move forward with a project
to turn the downstairs cloakroom into a shower room. I hadn’t realised just how
much has to be decided in such a small conversion and take my hat off to my
friend, Justine, who has undertaken a whole barn conversion!!
Knowing that I would have quite a bit of time on my hands
during my stay, I loaded my car with my spinning wheel, drum carder, fleeces,
needle-felting wool and knitting wool and patterns and so I have not been idle!
There is a growing pile of finished items in my bedroom and the dining room has
become a workroom. I have also given a talk and demonstration to the local
Happy Circle group and am booked to do another one for the Luncheon Club in
February – so I’m keeping busy, albeit rather sedentary.
Mum and I do try to go out for a short walk around the
village on most days, and the other day we went for a stroll through Cheltenham’s
beautiful Pittville Park. There were signs of spring everywhere. On a bank near
the larger or boating, lake were clumps of snowdrops, interspersed with wild
primroses and by the small lake we saw winter honeysuckle, aconites, crocus and
japonica all flowering together! The area of Pittville was originally conceived,
by Joseph Pitt MP in the 1820s, as a new town on the outskirts of Cheltenham
with pleasant walks and rides, a fashionable Pump Room, a church and exclusive
villas. Although building plots could be purchased individually, the outside of
the properties had to comply with strict guidelines laid down by Joseph Pitt
and his architect so that there would be a pleasant uniformity to the
buildings. Many houses were built, but not nearly as many as he had envisaged,
there was a property slump and the spa waters started to go out of fashion,
plus the Pump Room was deemed to be too far from the town centre. In the end,
Joseph Pitt went bankrupt and much of his vision was never realised, which is a
shame, because it is now one of the most sought-after bits of Cheltenham in
which to live!
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| Me and my trusty sidekick! |
I have been for a couple of longer walks on my own, to blow
away the cobwebs and at least give me the illusion of keeping active! I took a
nostalgic walk around my childhood haunts the other week, retracing the routes
that I took more than 50 years ago, with my trusty sidekick, Bunty, the Spoodle
(an accidental cross of a Standard Poodle and a Springer Spaniel!) A lot of it
was still very recognisable, but I couldn’t get over the amount of traffic
everywhere! There was one small lane that I used to walk along that was quite
spooky, as it was narrow, very wet and overhung with trees and vegetation and
you never saw anyone along there. This time when I walked along it, it seemed
much wider and they had obviously managed to tame a lot of the springs as it
was not nearly as wet, despite the copious amount of rain we’ve had recently,
plus there were joggers, dog walkers, kids on bikes and loads of cars! One
thing that has hardly changed at all is the road that I used to live on: it is a
road, unadopted by the council, and has therefore never been surfaced or
maintained by them. A few of the residents have put tarmac strips outside their
properties but, for most of its short length, it is still the rutted, stony
road of my childhood! It is a weird anomaly, and one of only two or three such
roads in Cheltenham. I shall be quite upset if they ever do surface it!
For most of my walks I’ve been sticking to hard footpaths
and pavements, as my osteopath advised that walking across rutted fields was
probably not a good idea for my slightly dodgy back, but yesterday I ‘forgot’
and took off up a footpath that goes up across a very muddy, steep hill, but gives
lovely views out across Cheltenham from the top. I was very glad that I’d
chosen to do the walk in this direction, as coming down the hill would have
been precarious and would probably have ended with me sliding down on my bottom.
The other side of the hill, although nearly as steep, drops down through woodland
by way of an ancient sunken roadway which is full of rotting leaves that have
helped to soak up some of the moisture and cover the treacherously slippery
clay. As it was, by the time I got back, my boots were covered in a thick layer
of mud and my trousers were liberally spattered! I was surprised by how little
wildlife I’ve seen on my walks around the area although I have picked up the
scent of foxes a couple of times, usually on footpaths in the centre of the
village, but I live in hope of being able to report some interesting sightings
in my next blog!
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| Woollard Christmas lights |
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